


Call it Overtime or Extra Innings, Just Don't Call It Sudden Death

by uofmdragon



Series: Sometimes even Underdogs Can Have Comeback Victories [2]
Category: James Bond (Movies), Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: American Football, Backstory, Baseball, Cameos by Marvel Characters, Clint and Natasha are BFFs, Fix-It, Football, Hockey, M/M, Original Character(s), Phil Coulson & Nick Fury Friendship, Phil and Jasper are Bros, Schwarma, Scones, So many tumblr headcannons, Sports, Tony Cockblocks Without Ever knowing about it, canon events, crossovers, not an au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-24
Updated: 2013-03-24
Packaged: 2017-12-06 07:42:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 31,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/733123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uofmdragon/pseuds/uofmdragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There have been two constants in Phillip Coulson's life: Sports and Captain America.  He likes all of them, but he has a problem with the term Sudden Death.  After all, no one really dies...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Call it Overtime or Extra Innings, Just Don't Call It Sudden Death

**Author's Note:**

> This is the companion/prequel/sequel to [Sometimes on Fourth Down, You Just Have to Go For It](http://archiveofourown.org/works/553997). It was beta'd by the amazing Pyroblaze18, but any mistakes are my own. It is counting toward my Celebratory Kiss square on [](http://trope-bingo.dreamwidth.org/profile)[](http://trope-bingo.dreamwidth.org/)**trope_bingo**
> 
> There are a couple other references to other fandoms tucked away in this fic. Some of them are kind of random, so I wish you luck in finding them all.

The facts of Phil’s life are simple. He was born to John and Helen Coulson on July 8th. He was the middle child, with a much older brother, Chester, and younger sister, Sarah. John worked in a factory his whole life and it kept him away from his family. Helen was an educator and the primary caregiver of her three children. Both Chester and Phillip were named after their grandfathers. They lived in the suburbs of Chicago for all of Phil’s life, and for one week a year they would take a road trip to different parts of the country. 

At the age of four, Phil came down with a case of chickenpox and was banned from day care. Neither parent could take time off from work, so Phil was put in the care of his maternal grandfather. Helen was worried about leaving her child with her father, due to her father’s age and the chance of him coming down with his own case. Her father overruled her and took care of Phil and didn’t get sick. 

Phil bonded with his grandfather who was a no-nonsense kind of man. They watched the news and sports when they were on and when they weren’t on, his grandfather read the newspaper or told stories about what Phil considered to be the greatest of heroes, the evilest of villains, and a damsel who never seemed to be in distress, despite plunging headfirst into danger.

Phil repeated all the stories to his mother or his father when he got home, telling whoever would listen to him. He ignored how Chester would scoff and point out that they were just stories. Phil refused to believe Chester, because Chester—according to his grandfather—was a little shit head and Phil was never to repeat those words to his mother.

Soon after Phil turned 6, his grandfather suffered a heart attack and came to live with the Coulsons. Phil would race home daily to tell his grandfather all about school and sit and read to him until dinner. He’d read the newspaper as his grandfather once read to him (despite Helen saying that he was too young for that) and he would read the simple primary books his teacher sent home for him to practice on. Phil always went straight for the Captain America ones, because it made his grandfather smile.

It was January when Chester stopped him from going into the house. His older brother had exams and had gotten home early. 

“Where you off to in such a rush?” Chester said, neatly blocking the door with his larger body.

“To see Grandfather,” Phil said, scowling up at him.

“Oh, you mean my grandfather,” Chester said.

“He’s mine, too” Phil stated.

“Yeah, but I’m named after him,” Chester pointed out. “That makes me better in his eyes.”

“It does not!” Phil declared.

“Does too!” Chester tormented. “He loves me more, but hangs out with you, because he feels sorry for you. Poor Phil with no friends.”

“That’s not true,” Phil denied vehemently.

“It is. He’s my special grandparent; your special grandfather lives in Florida, because its too cold for him to live here in the winter,” Chester mocked, “He’s a wussy, just like you.”

Phil bit his lip, determined not to cry and tried to push past Chester.

“Whereas me, I’m going to be just like grandfather,” Chester said, preventing him from getting in.

“You don’t even like him,” Phil wailed, unable to hold back the tears.

“Doesn’t it matter, its how it works,” Chester replied, finally letting him in.

Phil raced toward his grandfather’s room, who arched an eyebrow at him. “What’s with the tears son?”

“Ch.. Ch.. Chester said...” Phil stammered out.

“How many times have I told you, your brother is a little shit and not to listen to him,” his grandfather said.

“But... But...”

“Get your boots and coat off and tell me what he said,” his grandfather ordered and Phil followed his instructions.

"Nonsense," his grandfather said firmly, after hearing Phil’s explanation. "You've got my name, too."

"I'm not a Chester," Phillip said.

"No, you're a Phillip and do you know what thousands of soldiers called me?" His grandfather asked.

"No."

"General Phillips, which sounds an awful lot like your name."

"It does," Phil agreed.

"Good, so if anyone’s going to be like me, it’s going to be the one that I’m best known as,” His grandfather said. “Now, which name is that Chester or Phillip?”

“Phillip?” Phil asked.

“See, you already got my brains,” his grandfather replied. “Now go get the newspaper and pray you don’t end up with my eyesight, I can’t read that damn print.” 

Phil grinned and went to get it. He spent the rest of the afternoon with his grandfather. He never knew that the next day, his grandfather called his lawyer and made changes in his last will and testament. Chester Coulson was a little shit, but Phillip Coulson was not, and therefore the belongings that mattered most to Chester Phillips would go to Phillip Coulson. Money would go to his daughter, but any of his old army things and anything relating to Captain America would go to Phillip, because his youngest grandson enjoyed those things. Chester could have the old watch that if he didn’t take care of would break within months. (Chester didn’t and it did.)

Just before Phil turned eight, his grandfather passed away. Phil cried for days after, but the day of the wake, he dried his tears, put on his best suit and took a seat next to his mother and father as others came and expressed their condolences. He shook their hands and stood, straight and tall like his grandfather had instructed him to do.

“Is that...?” His father said, looking at the couple that had just entered the room.

“Helen!” the man said, going straight over to them.

“Mr. Stark,” His mother said, sounding slightly surprised. Phil glanced at his father and saw him pale. “We weren’t expecting you.”

“We hopped on a plane the moment we heard,” Mr. Stark said. “Is he to be buried here?”

“No,” His mother said. “Mother is already buried in Arlington, but I wanted to have a service here, for those who can’t make it out there.”

“Of course,” Howard agreed, “The right thing to do. Is there anything I can do to help? … I know, let me pay for your family’s travel expenses out to Arlington. We’ll put you up in one of the suites.” The man looked down at Phil, “Is this your son? Chester, isn’t it? You’d like to see your grandfather’s burial, wouldn’t you?”

“No,” Phil said quickly.

“No?” Mr. Stark repeated, pulling back.

“No, I’m not Chester, my name is Phillip, Sir,” Phil said, “Chester is my older brother, he goes by CK now, he’s over on the couches.”

Mr. Stark glanced over at the couches to see CK sprawled on one of the sofas, looking completely bored and dazed. Mr. Stark glanced back at his mother, “Guess I forgot that you had another son.”

“And a daughter, Sarah; she’s not here, bit too young for this,” His mother explained gently. “I would have left Phil at home as well, but he insisted.”

“Grandfather would want me to be here,” Phil said, reminding her. “He wouldn’t think I was too young.”

“He hasn’t left our side all evening,” John stated, proudly.

“Completely understand, Tony is at that stage where he gets into everything,” Mrs. Stark said, offering his mother a smile. It was returned.

“You think about my offer,” Mr. Stark said, “We’re going to pay respects to that Old Warhorse that was your father.” With that the two turned and headed toward the coffin.

“And now you know why my father never complained about me settling in Illinois,” his mother said softly. “Stark Industries does very little business in the area.”

His father smirked slightly, “We probably need to discuss his offer, but we can’t do that now.”

“He’ll try to get an answer before he leaves,” his mother replied.

“Mom,” Phil said, looking up at them. “You look like you could use a glass of water and Dad is shifting like he’s about to start dancing, maybe you two should take a short break and use the bathroom.”

His two parents stared down at him, before smiling. 

“That’s my boy,” his mother said, leaning down to kiss his forehead.

“He spent too much time with your father,” Phil’s father said to his mother as he guided her out of the room.

Phil never learned what they decided. Within a few days, he boarded a plane for the first time and sat next to his father and CK, who got the window. His mother and Sarah were across the aisle. There was another funeral, attended by people in lots of military uniforms. Phil recognized the dress uniforms of the Marines, Navy, and Army. There a few he didn’t recognize and Phil desperately wished his grandfather were still there, so that he could ask. After the funeral, they went to Arlington National Cemetery. Phil paid close attention to the proceedings and only when they were done, did he ask his mother if he could look at the statue that had watched over the proceedings. His mother agreed, slightly distracted by talking to another crowd of well wishers.

Phil approached the statue solemnly, staring up at the face of Captain America. It wasn’t long before someone joined him, an older woman in a business suit.

“Are you one of General Phillip’s grandchildren?” She asked, smiling sadly down at him.

“Yes, ma’am,” Phil said.

“You sat very still through that entire ceremony, I’m rather impressed.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” Phil said, turning back to look up the statue.

“Did he tell you about Steve?”

“Steve?”

“Captain America.” 

“Yes, ma’am. Grandfather told me lots of stories about him.”

“Do you have a favorite?”

“I like the story about how he saved the Commandos,” Phil answered. “Because it’s how he becomes a hero and it has a happy ending.”

“And how does that one go?”

“Cap was on tour; he was a performer, not a hero yet,” Phil said, thinking back on it. “He found out that his friend Bucky was missing in action, so he disobeyed the General, and Peggy talked a pilot into flying them into enemy territory and he jumped into enemy territory, raided the base and saved them. Well, that’s the short version.”

“The short version?” Peggy asked.

Phil nodded, “Yeah, I’d tell you the long story, but I don’t want to start it and have my parents or CK interrupt me.”

“CK?”

“My brother—he thinks Grandfather was losing it and didn’t know what he was talking about,” Phil explained.

“And what do you think?” the woman asked.

“I think Grandfather was telling the truth. CK is a little shit head,” Phil said, and realizing what he said, slapped his hands over his mouth.

The woman laughed, “Parents don’t approve of that language?”

Phil shook his head.

“I won’t tell them, Phil, as long as you promise to keep believing in those stories your grandfather told you.”

“Oh I will,” Phil promised.

“Phil,” His father bellowed and jerked his head.

“I think we’re leaving,” Phil said.

“And I see a group of my friends as well,” the woman said, her gaze directed at a mixed group of soldiers.

“It was nice to meet you, ma’am,” Phil said, “Thank you for coming.”

“It was nice to meet you,” the woman said, smiling at him. “And remember your promise.”

“I will,” Phil agreed, before heading to his family as the woman headed for her group.

“We were just about to leave you,” one of her friends said.

“I would have found you Dugan,” The woman said, causing Phil to pause and look at the group again. They couldn’t really be...?

“Phil,” his father said again sharply. Phil sighed, wanting to go and ask, but his parents were clearly ready to go. He cast one last glance back as he reached his parents, and saw that one of them had replaced his service cap with a bowler hat. Phil bit his lip to hold back his excitement, because this was not the place. He just wished his grandfather had been here with him. It wasn’t until much later that he realized they all knew Grandfather and were there to pay their respects.

Phil did not forget his promise and with his inheritance of Captain America collectibles from his grandfather, he started collecting. He was never picked on for having such a nerdy hobby in school, because he made up for it with sports. There was a sport for every season and his games were one of the few things that his father tried very hard to get to. He played football (because his father loved it), hockey (because that was CK’s sport and it was easier for his family if they played the same sport), and baseball (because that was Cap’s favorite). He wasn’t the best on the team, but he wasn’t the worst either. He was solid and dependable and knew the games almost as well as the coaches. His grades never suffered and so he was commended.

When recruiters started showing up at Phil’s school, Phil marched right up and introduced himself to the Army men. There was no doubt in his mind about what he wanted to do and that was join the Army (though the Marine recruiters did ask if he was sure, Phil was). He discussed his options with them, and informed his parents as he filled out one application to West Point. His back up didn’t involve going to another school, he’d just enlist. With his grades and records, Phil got into West Point.

West Point was where Phil first met Nick Fury. Fury was Phil’s platoon leader for his first year and he pushed Phil hard to be the best that he could be. Phil will never forget the first time he met Nick Fury.

“And who are you cadet?”

“Phil Coulson, Sir,” Phil said, standing as straight as he could.

“And where are you from?”

“Chicago, Sir.”

“Chicago, does that make you a Cheesehead?” Fury asked.

“No, Sir, I’m a Bears fan,” Phil said.

“Nah, I think you’re a Cheesehead,” Fury stated and somehow, despite Phil’s protests, Cheesehead became his nickname—though it was mercifully shortened to Cheese within a few months. Phil was never fond of it and tried to ignore it, but it stuck until long after Fury had graduated and gone to Ranger School.

Phil’s best turned out to be pretty damn good, even when he wasn’t being pushed by Fury. He graduated with honors and entered Ranger School after his graduation. From there he joined the 75th Ranger Regiment. 

Phil was actually pleasantly surprised when entering his unit to be greeted with a loud, “Cheese!” Because of all the Platoons in the Rangers, he got stuck in the same one as Nick Fury. Together they trained, did relief missions and worked closely together during Operation Just Cause. They realized they made a great team whenever they worked together and their superiors noticed as well. Together they came up with crazy ideas that worked more often than they failed.

It was after they returned from Operation Desert Storm that they were informed of a meeting with a higher up. They shot one another confused glances, but reported on time to find a man in a suit waiting for them. The man suggested that it was time for them to change their careers. Phil balked at the idea, but as the man explained the history of the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division and how it had originally been known as the Strategic Science Reserve made Phil rethink the whole idea. The SSR was responsible for Captain America, who had known the Howling Commandos and Phil knew they had been at General Phillips’ funeral. Captain America was also a member of the Army—just like his grandfather—so it was highly possible that General Phillips had had some connection to the beginnings of this organization, but just hadn’t told a very young Phil Coulson. Adult Phil could understand why he did that, but it also made him realize that his grandfather never told him the full story.

“What's your answer, gentlemen?” the suit asked them. Phil glanced at Fury out of the corner of his eye and he could see that his friend was itching for the challenge. Fury met his gaze and Phil nodded slightly.

“We’re in,” Fury stated as Phil made a larger nod for the man.

“Excellent,” the man said. “You’ll be expected in New York at the end of the month.”

"We'll be there," Phil agreed. They were officially given their transfer papers a few days later. They were told there would be barracks available to them, but that they were also free to get an apartment in the city. There was a brief discussion between he and Fury before they decided to get an apartment together.

Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division was a new and exciting challenge. They went through training all over again, this time for both their minds and bodies. They started small and slowly moved on to more challenging ops. Their two-man team was successful, and then disaster struck.

Everything comes to an end, dynasties rise and fall in the world of athletics all the time. Every so often a team gets cocky and the underdog that is supposed to lose, ends up coming with a thrilling win. Fury and Coulson had been successful, and looking back on it Coulson will admit that they were probably getting cocky. Both of them were still young enough to believe in their own immortality, they had survived wars and ops in places that no sane man would go into and come out unscathed for the most part.

They were in Columbia, trying to take out a drug cartel that was also building an army. Nick had infiltrated the cartel as Marcus Johnson, a petty thug with an a penchant for violence. Phil was his back up this time around, taking care of things behind the scenes. Phil was perfectly capable in the field, but he had an eye for detail that made him vital behind the scenes. He just wished he’d seen this one coming, that he'd been a little quicker, because then maybe Fury wouldn't have lost his eye. Coulson worked on paperwork in medical while he waited for Fury to wake up. 

"Coulson," Fury said, voice hoarse.

"Right here," Coulson said, putting down his things and moving into Fury's line of sight.

"You okay?" Fury asked.

"Yeah," Coulson answered. "You feeling alright?"

"Been better," Fury answered. "I think someone sold us out."

"Who?" Coulson asked, considering it.

"Don't know," Fury said. "I think it’s someone higher up in the food chain."

"What are you thinking?" Coulson asked.

"I don't know," Fury replied, "But I'll let you know when I do, Cheese."

Coulson managed a smile and stood by his friend. While Fury recovered, he also worked on getting his skills back up to par and took whatever training he could. Coulson joined him for as much of it as he could, but he was still being sent on missions, becoming a better field operative. Neither of them were surprised when the decision came down that Fury would not be allowed in the field, but could continue on as Coulson's handler. It was a direct switch from what they had been doing, but like every bit of their friendship, they made it work. 

They climbed the ladder over the years, slowly working their way up. Fury was the one who moved through the ranks quicker—Coulson a few steps behind him—but Coulson was fine with that. When Fury took over a department, he cleaned house, checked to make sure he had the best and recruited the best. They both worked hard to gain friends in other departments, so that they had something of a support structure as they kept looking for any possible leak.

Coulson came back from a mission to find Fury waiting for him, "You want some apple pie? I want some apple pie."

Coulson gave him a curious look, because the mission had been a long one and all he wanted was to sleep. Still, he nodded, let some of his co-workers know he was going out and they ended up at a small diner. They got their pie and Phil refrained from digging in, because he could see that Fury was upset about something.

"I think I found our leak?" Fury said.

"Who?" Coulson asked.

"Apling," Fury stated.

"Director Monroe's second?" Coulson replied, shocked.

"He's up to something, but I can't prove it," Fury growled.

"So what do we do?" Coulson asked, after a moment. 

"We wait, we plan, we try to find something we can stick on him," Fury decided.

"We make sure there's a better option out there when Monroe retires," Coulson added, looking at Fury.

"Who the hell would want that job?" Fury asked, shaking his head. He paused, looking at Phil. "Oh hell no, Cheese, I do not want that job."

"You'd be great at it, you know you would," Coulson pointed out. "Who else knows the job as well as you? I mean, don't you always say that you know this agency and its regulations better than Monroe?"

Fury glared at Coulson, before nodding. "If we find someone better…"

"We promote them too; it’s best to have as many horses in the race as possible," Coulson stated. He knew Fury would be fine; he'd have time to learn the skills he would need to lead. He wasn't going to be like a freshman quarterback going into his first game untested. Fury was going to be a seasoned quarterback just starting his junior year after the former quarterback graduated. Right now, he was metaphorically a sophomore with almost a full season in front of him, he had plenty of time to prepare and steal that second string spot from the current junior quarterback.

There was nothing they could do for now, so they just kept at it, looking for a chink in Apling's armor. However, Apling had surrounded himself with good people, people committed to both the job and Apling. If they knew anything, they weren't talking.

During this time, they did their jobs, and moved up the food chain. Coulson remained a few steps behind Fury, who sought out leadership positions and training. Coulson stuck primarily to ways he could support Fury, making up for any training he missed. It wasn't long before Coulson was put in charge of recruiting and training new agents. One of his first was a man by the name of Jasper Sitwell, who he managed to steal from the CIA's cyber division. The man had far more potential than tracking down suspects with computers and analyzing data. 

It wasn't long before Coulson and Fury realized that there was a recruiting war going on. The division line was tenuous at best with most not even realizing its existence. Apling had recruited a pair of marines, Maria Hill and Jeremy Clark. Their record was almost as good as Fury and Coulson's. They were a team that bounced back from the bad and didn't let the good ones get to their head. Then it call came crashing down on them with Clark's death. Hill had been injured, but she recovered, getting her own promotion and now she was recruiting specialists. This wouldn't have been a bad thing, except that she was still loyal to the man who brought her in, Apling.

Coulson was eating his lunch when Sitwell sat down across from him. Coulson expected him to start in on a rant about last night's game, but instead Sitwell said, "Hill recruited a new one."

Coulson glanced up, arching an eyebrow. He had never informed Jasper of his and Fury's little feud with Apling. Still, he wasn't surprised that Jasper was giving him the news. Jasper was observant and an excellent agent. He had moved up quickly through the ranks and he was no longer considered an inferior to Coulson.

"Out of jail," Sitwell added.

"We do have that provisions for that," Coulson pointed out.

"Terrorists?" Sitwell asked

Coulson considered the forms, "Rarer, but not unheard of."

"What's the skillset?" Coulson asked.

"Sniper," Sitwell said.

"Huh," Coulson said, considering it.

"Prefers bows and arrows," Sitwell added.

Coulson tilted his head as he considered it, "Well, they would be quieter."

Sitwell paused, "True, if only we could find a silencer that worked like one in the movies."

"If only," Coulson agreed, nodding. He could see the advantages in having a sniper who preferred a bow and arrow. Though if Hill recruited him, then Coulson would never be able to use that particular sniper. He pushed it out of his mind for now—he'd inform Fury of it later. "Are we meeting for the game tonight?"

Sitwell paused, "Actually...."

Coulson quirked an eyebrow as he looked at his friend. They had made it a habit of meeting up to watch some games each season. Sitwell had a sixth sense for finding holes-in-the-wall that had delicious food. He was the one who found the bar where they went to watch a few sporting events while having a beer and unwinding.

"I can't," Sitwell answered, eyes flickering to just behind Coulson's shoulder at the head of the cafeteria line. "I have a date."

"Really?" Coulson asked, not relaxing the eyebrow.

"Yes."

"With who?"

"Jenni Ratner," Sitwell answered.

Coulson turned, looking back at the kitchen where Jenni ruled. "Impressive." He could just make out her red hair as she moved, checking the food on the line. Coulson turned back to find Sitwell nodding.

"She is," he said, looking at her. Coulson resisted the urge to roll his eyes, because Jasper was clearly besotted with the woman.

"Have fun, be a gentleman," Coulson said, glancing back at her, he had to add, "Just don't overdo it. She strikes me as a woman who is very independent."

"She's paying for the movie, I'm paying for dinner," Sitwell said. "She's quite a negotiator."

"Not surprised," Coulson said, "She was an accomplished negotiator before SHIELD recruited her."

"Surprised she didn't go back to it after her injury," Sitwell said.

"I'm sure she had her reasons," Coulson said.

"Maybe I'll find out," Sitwell said, "I won't be able to tell you, of course. Some confidences are not meant to be shared."

"Of course not," Coulson agreed, because he knew that Sitwell would break those confidences if it involved SHIELD's or the world's safety.

Sitwell smiled, "I'm looking forward to it."

"Enjoy yourself," Coulson said, "Maybe I'll see if Nick wants to watch the game with me."

It was Sitwell's turn to arch an eyebrow, which caused them both to snicker. Of course, Fury arrived at that moment. "What's so funny?"

"Coulson has something to ask you," Sitwell said, pulling a straight face. Fury eyed him with suspicion, before looking at Coulson.

"What is it, Cheese?" Fury asked.

"Sitwell has a date, so I have no one to watch the hockey game with me. Care to join me?" Coulson asked.

Fury glared, before growling, "Hell no." It was a well known fact that Fury hated hockey and had no interest in watching or talking about it. Coulson knew that instead of hockey, Fury had an odd preference for curling, due to there being "more strategy involved”.

Coulson went to see the game alone and for the majority of the rest of the season. Sitwell made it to a couple of games, but he was far more interested in progressing his relationship with Jenni. Coulson had lost his sports buddy and had apparently lost his seat as well—or at least he found himself in competition with someone for it when baseball season rolled around. Coulson took the seat when he could, and frowned slightly, before finding another seat when Hot Guy took it. Coulson hated his brain sometimes, because Hot Guy was not how he wanted to label the man, but it was the one nickname that stuck in his head.

Hot Guy seemed aware of their competition for what Coulson considered to be the best seat (It had a clear view of both the tv and the door), because every so often their eyes would meet during a commercial. Depending on who had claimed the seat, he would get a smirk or a simple nod. Coulson hated that damn smirk.

There was something about the way he moved though—Hot Guy was dangerous (and more than a little sexy). Coulson's instincts told him that Hot Guy worked for someone—Hydra, AIM, FBI, CIA, maybe even SHIELD. Coulson knew he didn't know all the members of his own organization, but it was a huge operation. Hot Guy seemed content to simply steal the spot from Phil or lose gracefully, which made Coulson think that he was more on the side of protecting national security than disrupting it. Coulson was pretty content to let it stay that way as well until football. 

Until the bar was packed and the only free spot available was at the bar far away from the screen showing the Big Ten game. There were a few free seats scattered at tables, but if Coulson was going to see if he could join anyone, he decided he might as well take a seat at the best one. He ordered a sandwich to eat while he watched. Then he made his way over to the table where Hot Guy sat. Coulson politely waited for a lull in the action, before coughing politely. Hot Guy turned his startled gaze towards him.

"Uh, yeah?" Hot Guy asked, slightly defensively.

"I was wondering if I could join you," Coulson requested. "There’s only space at the bar and I’d rather watch Iowa play than Syracuse.”

“You going to cheer for Iowa?” Hot Guy asked.

“I tend to cheer for the Big Ten, I’m from Illinois,” Coulson admitted.

“I don’t know then,” Hot Guy replied, glancing around the bar and clearly taking in the packed crowd “I’m cheering for the Cyclones.”

“Oh,” Coulson said, surprised since he clearly remembered catching a college baseball game at the bar and Hot Guy being quite vocal about their win. Most people stuck to a school and didn't vary by sports, “I thought you normally cheer for Iowa?”

“When they don’t play the Cyclones,” Hot Guy said. The chair next to Coulson popped out and Coulson glanced at Hot Guy, who nodded slightly. Coulson managed a small smile as he took the offered seat. 

“That doesn’t seem right for a rivalry game," Coulson said, considering it. "Like a Michigan State fan cheering for Michigan.”

“Well, I’m more of a Northern Iowa fan,” Hot Guy admitted, “Good luck finding that on TV though.”

“No, I imagine it wouldn’t be,” Coulson agreed, Northern Iowa was D1 and it was hard to find those games on television. “So really, you just chose a team?”

“For this one yeah,” Hot Guy agreed with a nod. “Cheer for the Cyclones in the Big Twelve, Cheer for the Hawkeyes in the Big Ten, and then pick and choose.”

“I like the Wildcats in the Big Ten myself,” Coulson put out, hoping to draw Hot Guy into conversation. It worked, and they talked and watched the rest of the game while Coulson ate. It was a shame that Coulson had to go back to work.

The next week Coulson went back in hopes of finding Hot Guy and continuing their conversation, but he was bitterly disappointed when Hot Guy was a no show that weekend.

The week after, there was no disappointment. Coulson managed to get the afternoon off for the game. He settled happily into the table, and it wasn't long before he saw Hot Guy enter the bar. He headed towards the table, before he noticed Coulson and then veered to grab another table instead. Coulson flagged a waitress down, "Do you know what he drinks?"

"Yeah," the waitress nodded.

"Get him one of his usual and tell him he's more than welcome to join me," Coulson instructed, pulling out more than enough to pay the waitress. She took it, giving him a look, but he watched as she got the beer and brought it to Hot Guy. They talked briefly, before Hot Guy glanced his direction. Coulson gave him a friendly smile as the other man got up and made his way over to join him.

"I missed you last week," Coulson admitted.

“Yeah, I was... busy,” Hot Guy said, sounding a bit reluctant. Coulson studied him, looking for a clue as to what he was busy with. Wherever he worked, it was clearly top secret. Coulson wanted to know what it was, but he decided it was the best that he didn't. Hot Guy seemed interested in pretending that he was normal and Coulson decided to go with it. He nodded, before asking a question about the game and they fell back into their discussion from last week.

It became a habit for them to meet up throughout September and October, but in November Hot Guy disappeared and Coulson lost his new game buddy. Sitwell was still seeing Jenni and seemed to have settled into a long-term relationship with her. Coulson wished them all the luck. He had his job and his occasional meetups with Hot Guy, which were unfortunately the closest thing to a date that he actually had in a long time.

There were missions to go on, some that lasted for a couple hours, some taking most of the week. On one of the week long missions, he found himself appointed as one of Director Monroe's aids—along with Fury—when the Director had a meeting with the new head of MI6 to improve communication between agencies. They were having the meeting in the SIS Building overlooking the Thames. He smiled as he looked out the larger window. Monroe and him were waiting for M, their leader to show up. He was pleasantly surprised to see a familiar looking gray haired, British woman step in.

"M," Director Monroe said, standing up to greet her.

"Monroe," M greeted, offering her hand. They shook hands and got down to business. Coulson was able to fill in a few missing gaps and hand Monroe the relevant files as they discussed their business. Throughout this he tried to figure out where he knew M from, because he was certain they had met before. It was apparent that the feeling was mutual, judging by the glances that M sent his way during a few lulls. They were on a small break while Monroe went to use the facilities.

"I know you from somewhere," M stated, looking at him. "Where?"

"I don't know ma'am," Phil said, "But the feeling is mutual. Phillip Coulson."

"Coulson," M repeated, eyes narrowing as she studied him. "That name sounds familiar as well." Coulson was taken slightly by surprise at that. M was clearly thinking about that, "Your family?"

"My mother was a teacher and my father worked in a factory," Coulson answered, glancing about the room for his own clues. His eyes froze when he looked at an older picture, "Is that James Falsworth?"

M turned following his gaze, "Yes, did you know him?"

"Not personally," Coulson admitted. "My grandfather used to tell me stories of Captain America and the Howling Commandos."

"Did he?" M asked.

"Yes," Coulson answered. "I... I think they were at his funeral, actually."

"And who was your grandfather?" M asked.

"Ah, Chester Phillips, he was in the army for a time," Coulson admitted, before looking at M again as he realized just where he had seen her before.

M smiled at him, "Well, mystery solved then."

"What mystery?" Director Monroe asked as he stepped back in the room.

"Agent Coulson and I were just discussing how small our world has become," M said, and then refused to answer anymore questions regarding that. Monroe gave Coulson a few curious looks during the meeting, but didn't ask any questions. Coulson expected to be questioned after the meeting when they got back to their hotel or once they got back to the States, but it never did happen. Fury would have wanted to know, but Monroe was clearly losing his touch. It was something Phil did report to Fury though.

"Wait, you're General Chester Phillips' grandson?" Fury asked when he had finished telling the story, sounding completely stunned.

"Yes," Coulson stated.

"How come this isn't common knowledge?" Fury asked.

"I didn't want special treatment," Coulson replied. "At least not when I entered the army. It was there in my records if anyone looked, but I wanted to succeed on my own merits. It just never came up afterwards."

"So why the hell am I the one who you think should be the next director?" Fury asked.

"Because I think you're better suited for the job," Coulson admitted.

"We'd stand a better chance if it was General Phillips' grandson," Fury growled.

"Perhaps, but it could also create a negative bias towards myself," Coulson pointed out.

Fury sighed and shook his head, "Cheese..."

"We've already worked our skill sets to complement one another, and yours are more suited toward leadership, it’s too late now," Coulson added.

"I guess," Fury agreed reluctantly.

"I do think we've gained a potential ally though," Coulson pointed out.

"You think M would side with us?" Fury asked, curious.

"Possibly, she didn't mention to Monroe who my relative was," Coulson said. "She appears to be respecting my desire for anonymity concerning my grandfather."

"If you make contact with her again...." Fury said.

"I'll make sure to leave a good impression," Coulson promised.

"Good," Fury said. That was it, they continued to work. 

On the personal front, Phil didn't get a chance to catch any of the early bowl games, but he made it to the bar for a couple of hockey games. There wasn't any sign of Hot Guy, which was disappointing. At least until New Year's when they met again. Hot Guy joked and teased with him, and Coulson had managed to get a name, Clint, which Coulson found suited him enough that he was sure it wasn't an alias. When it came time to give his own name, Coulson went with Phil, even though no one called him that anymore. 

They managed to catch one another a few more times during the pro football playoffs, and Coulson made sure to come to the bar on Super Bowl Sunday, because it was probably going to be the last time they say one another until baseball season started. Clint was a no show, which probably meant that he was working. Coulson could only hope it was for the right people.

Life continued and Coulson found himself counting down the days to the opening day of the baseball season. He was there for the opening game, but there was no sign of Clint. He got busy after that—Hill had an op that went wrong and Barton had gotten injured. Fury and Phil had to do clean up and investigate the incident. It took a while, and when he finally made it back and finally made it to see another game, there was Clint seated at their table. They talked until Clint's order arrived and then Coulson spotted the hint of white wrapped around Clint's hand.

"What happened to you arm?" Coulson asked, not meaning to, not even thinking about it.

"Broke it working," Clint replied, nonchalantly. Coulson stared at him; they never talked about work. He was still convinced that Clint worked for an agency, but still wasn't sure which agency that was. Here was the perfect opening for him to ask what Clint had been doing to break his arm and Phil found himself not wanting to know. He nodded slightly and decided not to ask questions.

"Personally, I think it’s a blessing in disguise," Clint added a moment later, going on to tell him that Clint was unhappy with his work and ready to move on. Phil almost asked about his skillset, because maybe Clint would make a decent asset for SHIELD. Phil felt his heart break when Clint mentioned leaving New York, leaving Phil, and it wasn't like Phil could begrudge him that. Clint was his own man and should go wherever made him happy; it was just that Clint was Phil's only non-work friend. The hand landing on his, made him glance up at Clint, "I'm not sure I will, I’ve met some really great people.”

Phil glanced at his their hands, before looking up and meeting Clint's eyes. “Do I count as one of those great people?”

“Yeah,” Clint said, softly and Phil couldn't help himself, he shifted his hand, threading his fingers through Clint's and squeezing it.

“I’m really glad I met you,” Phil admitted, because it seemed like Clint deserved to know that.

“So am I,” Clint agreed, “I like talking to you.”

“I like talking to you too. Hockey season wasn’t nearly as interesting as football season; I missed our discussions,” Phil added, because it hadn't been. The few games he had watched with Sitwell had paled in comparison.

“I missed talking to you during basketball,” Clint said, and Phil couldn't suppress that pleased feeling he had, causing Clint to smile. Phil stared into Clint's eyes, because he didn't want this moment to end; he wanted to stay right there with Clint.

“You should eat, before your food gets cold,” Phil said after a bit.

“I need my hand back for that,” Clint said teasingly. Phil felt himself blush and watched as Clint’s smile widened. Phil reluctantly let go of Clint's hand. Phil ordered himself a burger and they settled in to watch the game.

Coulson was lucky enough to run into him a little more often. Clint seemed to have staked out the table during most lunches that Coulson took. Coulson found himself taking more lunches away from SHIELD, so that he could talk to Clint some more. On Saturdays, Coulson found himself taking longer breaks to go to spend with Clint at the bar and watch whatever game was on. When the cast finally came off and Clint showed up at the bar with the rubber band and a list of exercises he was to do in order to rebuild the muscle he'd lost, Coulson was happy to help in whatever way he could. Even if it was holding one end of the rubber band while Clint pulled on it with his weaker arm, or simply taking the rubber band away, so Clint didn't overdo it. Of course this behavior got noticed by Fury, who arrived at Coulson's office door just as Coulson was about to go to lunch.

"Going somewhere?" Fury asked.

"Out to lunch," Coulson answered.

"You've been going out to lunch more often lately," Fury noted. "Something up?"

"No, I just..." Coulson hesitated.

"Cheese?" Fury asked, wheedling him. Coulson stepped back into the office and motioned Fury in.

"I met someone," Coulson explained, once the door was closed. He dropped down onto the couch.

"So you've been having lunch dates?" Fury asked, taking a seat next to him.

"Kind of," Coulson said. "He's a friend, maybe a little more, but right now all he is, is a friend."

"You'd like it to be more?" Fury asked and Coulson could feel that studious gaze that missed nothing.

"Maybe, but I don't think anything will happen until after he leaves his job," Coulson answered honestly.

"What's he do?" Fury asked.

"Don't know, never asked; all I know is that his contract is up in the fall," Coulson answered.

"So what's his name?" Fury questioned, frowning.

"Clint, and no, I don't know his last name and I never asked. He knows me as Phil and that's it," Coulson explained.

Fury stared at him, "Seriously? You aren't...?"

"I don't talk about work either. It's our unspoken rule, we mostly talk about whatever game is on at the time," Coulson explained.

"You're purposely keeping yourself ignorant of this guy?" Fury asked.

"Yes," Phil answered, "Because it’s normal. I think he works for someone else who values their secrecy, so we don't ask, and we don't talk about it."

"He's never asked about state secrets? Information?" Fury asked.

"We don't even have set times to meet up," Coulson said. "We both prefer a certain table at the bar and we kept stealing it from one another a year ago. During football season, there was a day it was crowded and we sat next to another, since then we've shared the table. I know it sounds strange, but..."

"How do you know he's on the up and and up?" Fury asked.

"I don't and I'm not going to spill anything to him," Coulson said. "Trust me."

Fury sighed softly, "I don't like it..."

"I'm sure you don't," Coulson agreed.

"But I do trust you," Fury stated. "So, I'm going to let this one go and trust you to tell me if you get in too deep."

Coulson smiled at that, "Thanks Nick."

"You're lucky I trust you, so damn much," Fury said with a sigh.

Coulson couldn't resist, leaning over, and nudging him with his shoulder, "Feeling left out?"

Fury laughed softly, "Not really, just curious." He paused, "But I'm free for lunch if you are today."

"C'mon," Coulson said, getting up. "You know I'm always free for my best friend."

"Maybe you can tell me about this man of yours," Fury said, following him out.

"He's from Iowa?" Coulson said, as they headed out.

"Iowa?" Fury repeated, "What's in Iowa besides corn?"

"No idea," Coulson laughed, looking forward to lunch with Fury, even if they did end up in SHIELD's cafeteria with Sitwell joining them. It was nice and Coulson was reminded that even if Clint was his only non-work friend, he still had two really good work friends.

It wasn't too long after that that Coulson got handed a mission that had Fury seething. Operation: Pirate Spider was a horribly planned operation to eliminate a Russian Assassin known as the Black Widow. Coulson's current asset was a hand-to-hand specialist by the name of Tim Binici. They had worked well together for a number of missions, but this mission looked to be doomed from the start. Binici was a hand-to-hand specialist, but the Black Widow was considered the best. This was a job for a sniper, only this mission was just supposed to be Coulson and Binici.

Coulson and Fury holed up in Fury's office trying to turn the mission into something workable, calling for favors left and right. It had started as a total shitstorm and by the time they were done, it was still a suicide mission—but now with a slight chance for Binici and Coulson to come back. There wasn't anything more that could be done, so they broke for the night.

Coulson originally decided to head home, but instead found himself entering the bar and looking at the table.

"Hey!" Clint called, waving at him excitedly.

"Hello Clint," Coulson said, going to take a seat next to him.

"You're just in time, it’s looking like the White Sox are about to put the Cubs away," Clint said with a wide, teasing smile.

"Are they?" Coulson asked, glancing at the TV.

"Yeah, they've been playing great today," Clint said, clearly trying to get a reaction out of him.

Coulson grunted softly, looking back at Clint. Clint was clearly in good humor, talking animatedly, and trying to get Coulson to talk, but Coulson found himself only responding in one or two word answers. Eventually Clint fell silent, fingers tapping on the table in a nervous energy as they watched the rest of the game together.

Afterwards, Phil hesitated briefly, "Walk out with me?"

Clint looked at him, concern evident on his face, "Sure."

Coulson offered him a smile, a shadow of its usual self and headed out. He trusted Clint to follow behind him and if he didn't…well, then he wouldn't have to say goodbye. Clint had followed though and once they were on the street, Clint asked, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Phil said, ducking into an alleyway. Clint trailed behind him, a bit slower. Coulson turned to face him.

“This isn’t like you,” Clint said softly.

“I know,” Phil agreed. “I wanted to tell you I’m going away.”

“Going away?” Clint asked, looking confused.

“Work,” Phil answered. “I’ve got a long term assignment, it’s...dangerous.”

Clint looked at him, clearly alarmed, before nodding. Coulson had a feeling that Clint understood what he'd been trying to stay, that he might not be coming back from this one.

“I wanted to tell you,” Coulson said, before admitting, “I...I wish could tell you more, but I can’t.”

“It’s okay,” Clint replied, reaching to rest a hand on his shoulder and pull him closer. “Our jobs have clearance levels and I don’t have clearance for your job.”

“I’m sorry,” Phil whispered, wishing that he could tell Clint everything. He can't though, because he still doesn't know where Clint's loyalties actually lie. 

“I understand,” Clint said, and leaned in closer. Coulson watched in surprise as those lips brushed against his own. Phil leaned in, kissing him back, because this was something that he wanted. He wanted to be with Clint, and had hoped that they would have more time together, but it looked like it wasn't going to happen now. He pressed Clint against the wall, and felt Clint groan into the kiss.

Phil forced himself to pull back, smiling at the other man. “When I get back...”

“Yeah, kick some ass and come back to me, Phil,” Clint requested, softly.

Phil couldn't resist leaning in to kiss Clint again; he felt Clint respond eagerly. Phil knew he could get lost in Clint's lips, forget about the mission, forget about everything else, and just lose himself in the press of Clint's body against his. He couldn't though—he couldn't forget his duty—so he forced himself to pull back again, voice hoarse as he whispered, “You are incredible.”

“You haven’t seen anything yet,” Clint said, sounding smug.

Phil shook his head as he took a step back to leave.

“Good luck Phil,” Clint said softly.

Phil paused at the alleyway entrance, “No cheering for the White Sox while I’m gone alright?”

“I guess I can root for the Cubs, just for you,” Clint replied, giving him a small smile. It is a shadow of the smile that Clint is capable of—a sign, Phil realized, that Clint was genuinely worried about him. Phil forced himself to smile back and leave Clint in that alley, because if he stayed, he'd never want to leave and would never want to go on that mission.

As expected, Operation: Pirate Spider went horribly wrong. It started with Black Widow giving them the slip and Coulson having to track her through several countries. Coulson never gave up though and he eventually managed to track her down to India. Coulson was supposed to be able to call in a SHIELD team, but either there was a communication failure between departments or the tech broke. Coulson never did find out what it was—all he knew was that they ended up facing Black Widow alone. Coulson tried to set up a point from where he could take a shot, but she must have noticed them. She wrecked the shot by going after Binici, who got overeager, and went to meet her. They moved constantly while fighting with one another and Coulson never got a clear shot before the Widow made her move. The snap of Binici's neck echoed loudly in the empty warehouse. Coulson quickly fired off a couple shots, but Widow seemed to evade his bullets. Suddenly she was in front of him, throwing a punch that he barely saw. He did his best to defend himself, but he ended up getting his ass kicked by Black Widow. She pummeled him until he was bruised and broken, lying on the floor of the dirty warehouse.

Coulson had never been as grateful that he kept in touch with M as he was while lying in a pool of his own blood with Widow standing over him, gun in hand. Her finger was on the trigger, prepared to shoot. "Who sent you?" Black Widow asked in Russian-accented English.

Coulson coughed weakly, but had no desire to talk. He never saw her foot move before she kicked into his gut.

"Who sent you?" Widow asked again. He did catch sight of her pulling her leg back to kick even harder this time, when the sound of a gun being cocked echoed through the building. Black Widow froze, her gun coming up and pointing towards the sound.

"Step away Natalia," a distinct British-accented voice said. Coulson lifted his eyes to take in the weathered features of the other man. Coulson didn't recognize him.

"What are you doing here?" Widow's voice dropped, sounding seductive.

"He's a friend of a friend," The man said, "So how about all three of us walk away from this?"

"He's American, he's not MI6," Widow said, "Why do you care?"

"My boss would prefer he stay alive," The man answered. "You kill him, I'm ordered to kill you."

Black Widow was silent, before she hissed, "Next time, I kill him."

"Of course," The man agreed. Coulson heard Black Widow walk away before the other man came over to help him up. "Let's get you some help."

"Who?" Coulson gasped out.

"Are you really going to make me repeat that silly code phrase?" The man asked, "M sent me."

"How do I know?" Coulson asked.

The other man huffed, "Excuse me Sir, do you happen to know anything about indigenous spiders?"

"I hear they can be poisonous," Coulson gasped out

"Clearly," The man muttered, hoisting Coulson up, before saying in a bit louder voice, "Do they have any treatment for their bites?"

"I believe so," Coulson said.

"You’d better hope so," The man said. "Satisfied?"

"Yeah," Coulson agreed, "Gonna pass out now..."

"Wha..." Coulson made out before he did just that.

Phil awoke later to find Nick in a chair nearby. His hand was pressed against the headset, clearly listening to whatever operation was currently ongoing. Phil glanced around the room, unsure of where he was. He waited a few minutes for Nick to glance in his direction. "Nick?" he gasped out, and Fury waved him silent. Phil glared at his friend, but whatever was going on was probably important. Phil sighed and started trying to put together whatever facts that he could. 

"Fuck," Nick growled a few minutes later. Phil looked at him questioningly. Nick looked at him, "It's official. Hill's pet sniper?"

"Barton?" Phil filled in after a moment's thought.

Nick nodded, "He just went rogue with Widow."

"What?"

"Apling decided to send his own team in, better prepared for it this time. Hill was in charge, with Barton cleared to take the shot, but he didn't," Fury explained. "He just got them both out of whatever trap Hill had set for her. Hill is pissed."

"I would be too," Phil agreed. "Do we need...?"

"We?" Nick said, looking at him and putting his hands on his hips. "You're in that bed until you're cleared to get out of it. Do you understand me? Shit Cheese, you're not allowed to die on me, is that clear?"

"You're not my boss," Phil pointed out with a small smile.

"And if you clock out on me, I won't be," Fury said, "Now, get some rest, heal, and I'll fill you in on everything when you wake up."

It took Phil several days to recover enough to be alert. During that time, he found out that the MI6 agent had gotten him to safety. He'd been sent back Stateside after a brief stop in England. SHIELD was on full alert, looking for Barton and Widow, so he had very few visitors. He knew that Fury was involved in the search along with anyone of a high rank, but those two appeared to be a formidable team.

Knowing all of this Coulson was understandably surprised when Sitwell stepped into his room. Coulson glanced up from the crossword puzzle that he had been working on.

"Hey," Coulson greeted the other man.

"Hey," Sitwell said, closing the door and locking it. Coulson watched him curiously as he shut all the doors and pulled the drapes closed.

"Jasper?" Coulson asked.

"I got a voicemail," Sitwell said quietly, once he was done, and made his way over to the bed.

"From?"

"Barton," Sitwell replied, tugging out his phone.

"Barton?"

"Yeah, he wants to come in and bring Widow in as well," Sitwell said, "I don't know what to do, I'm not cleared for this."

Coulson frowned, "You think he really wants to come in?"

"I don't know…I've met him, but he's one of Apling's jailbirds," Sitwell explained. "Don't you know this?"

"I've never worked with the man," Coulson admitted, "Never seen him, never seen his file."

"Really?" Sitwell looked at him in disbelief.

"Hill doesn't want to share him, and I don't think Apling does either," Coulson said, reaching for his phone. He dialed Fury's number.

"What?" Fury snapped.

"It's Cheese, I need you to come down here." Coulson replied, calmly.

"I'm a little busy, right now," Fury growled.

"Bring Barton's file when you come down, please," Coulson requested.

"Are you listening to me? I don't have..." Fury said, sounding like he was about to explode. "Why do you want Barton's file?"

"Come down here and I'll tell you," Coulson replied.

There was a low growl followed by a click, Coulson smiled, "Fury's on his way down."

"I have my phone—he called my personal cell. I never gave him my number," Sitwell added.

"Calm down, it'll be alright," Coulson encouraged and watched as Sitwell started pacing. Coulson could understand why—if SHIELD thought Sitwell was working with Barton, then he would be in big trouble. He waited a few minutes, before he added, "Might want to unlock the door for Fury."

Sitwell started at that, and then moved to do so. It wasn't long, before Fury entered the room. He tossed the file on the bed. "What the hell is going on?"

"Close the door," Phil instructed, grabbing the folder. Fury closed the door and locked it. "Sitwell tell Fury what you told me, starting from the beginning."

Sitwell took a deep breath and started talking. Coulson half paid attention to the conversation, because Fury interrupted and asked questions question every now and then. The majority of his attention was going to be on the folder, but he paused on the inside cover. Familiar eyes glared up at him. It was a dark look on a face that Coulson was used to seeing with a wide and teasing smile, eyes bright with happiness. Clint had said he was unhappy with his job, but Coulson never thought that his job was SHIELD. His Clint was Hill's Barton—her prized sniper who she pulled out of jail.

"Cheese!" Fury barked suddenly, and Coulson jumped, looking at him. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Coulson said, "Just trying to get a feel for Barton."

Fury gave him a look, which meant that he was letting it go for now. He turned his attention back to Sitwell, "Play the message."

Sitwell toyed with his phone, and Coulson closed his eyes to listen to the message, "Hey Sitwell, it's Barton. I'm sure you know that I'm in a bit of a jam, which I'd like to be out of. If you can give me someplace safe for me to come in, I'll be bringing my new friend as a new recruit for SHIELD."

"He doesn't say Widow," Fury pointed out softly.

"Who else could it be?" Coulson asked, looking back at the folder. "He's smart enough to not use names on an unsecured line. They both have enemies."

"He sounded nervous, he could be lying," Fury said.

"He's on the run from SHIELD, and he knows we want him back," Phil pointed out.

"He's a jailbird," Sitwell added, "Hill never trusts them and doesn't hide it; if they betray us, they're dead to her."

Fury nodded, before instructing, "Play it again."

They listened several more times, before strategizing about various scenarios. They considered both the possibility of it being a setup, and also whether they did really want to come in. Once they had the basis for a couple different plans and how to go about them, Fury went to see Director Monroe himself, taking Sitwell's phone to share the message.

Coulson leaned back into the bed and tried to get some sleep while he waited for Fury to come back with news. Sitwell paced until Coulson told him to sit down, and then he settled, turning the TV on and flipping through the channels.

It was several hours before the doors opened up and Fury stepped into the room, "Agent Sitwell, we need you to make a phone call."

"Yes, Sir," Sitwell said, getting up to follow Fury out.

Coulson was left waiting and he hated it. It took a couple days, during which Coulson started feeling well enough to get out of his hospital bed and rebuilding his strength. Coulson expected Fury to tell him, but instead it was Sitwell who told him that they had both Widow and Barton in custody, and that Monroe, Apling, and Fury were trying to decide what to do with them. Coulson gave them a couple more hours, before making his way to the interrogation cells and slipping into the viewing room. Fury was seated in one of the chairs, watching as Apling and Monroe questioned Barton.

"It was instinct!" Barton was yelling.

"Do I want to know?" Coulson asked, taking a seat.

"Should you be up?" Fury asked. "He doesn't know why he thought she wanted to come in."

"Gut instinct?" Coulson suggested.

"Possibly," Fury agreed.

"Did they already interview Widow?" Coulson asked.

"Briefly. She won't reveal anything until she's been assured of her and Barton's survival," Fury said. He chuckled as he added, "Apparently she doesn't trust us."

"I don't think I would if I were her," Coulson agreed, looking at Barton. The angry glare from the photo was on his face, and his shoulders were tense as he glared at the duo, while answering all the questions.

"You think he's telling the truth?" Fury asked.

"Yes," Coulson answered.

He could see the slight reflection of Fury glancing at him. "Really?" 

Coulson nodded. "He's annoyed, but trying to be respectful."

"Listen," Barton said, interrupting their questioning. "I know what it’s like to be stuck in a rut of a life you don't want. She was in that rut, she wanted a way out and SHIELD..." Barton's jaw tensed, "SHIELD does good work."

"Is he sucking up?" Fury asked.

"No, I don't think he likes working here," Coulson said, thinking of the conversation they had had months ago. 

"Then why not run?" 

"He wants that second chance," Coulson murmured. "He wants to clear his record from when he was in jail."

"And he can't do that by running," Fury added, before nodding.

"Neither can she," Coulson added. "It takes one to know one after all."

"Seriously?" Fury asked, looking at him.

Coulson smiled and shrugged, but it seemed that outburst was the end of the interview. It wasn't long before Apling and Monroe appeared in the room to watch Barton, who had hardly moved since they left.

"Agent Coulson, good to see you on your feet again," Director Monroe greeted him.

"Thank you Director," Coulson said, nodding to him.

"Are you caught up on the situation?" Monroe asked.

"Mostly," Coulson answered. "I haven't seen any footage of the Widow's interview and I missed a good portion of this one. Agent Fury has filled me in though."

"Fury, your thoughts," Monroe asked, taking a seat, but keeping an eye on Barton as several agents went in to escort him out.

"I think they're telling the truth," Fury said. "I don't think Barton had any previous connections to her, nor do I think that this was in any way planned."

"At no point were they ever close to one another," Coulson interjected. "According to their files, Barton—except for a few rare occasions—has stayed Stateside, while the reverse is true for Widow." He'd been busy reading up on them while they had been handling this.

Monroe nodded, "So you think Barton had a gut instinct about Widow?"

"I think he recognized a kindred spirit," Fury answered, glancing at him. "Someone who wanted an out from their life. And while Barton may want an out from his life at SHIELD, he did admit we do good work here, albeit a little reluctantly."

"So we should take them on?" Monroe asked, glancing between Fury and Apling.

"I would say, 'yes'," Fury said, "Keep an eye on both of them."

"Agent Fury makes several good points," Apling agreed. "Except for one thing: Black Widow killed one of our own. What handler would take her?"

Monroe made a sound of agreement.

Coulson discreetly nudged Fury under the table. Fury glanced at him, eyebrow raised and Coulson gave him a look. Fury's eyebrow went up further and Coulson nodded slightly.

"I would," Fury said, causing both Monroe and Apling to stare at him in shock.

"You can't," Apling said. "We'd have to find you another handler to supervise and you already have the maximum allowed."

"Tim Binici was killed by Widow," Fury said. "Coulson no longer has an asset."

"Do you really want to handle the woman who killed your previous asset and put you in the hospital?" Monroe asked.

"Binici and I were trying to kill her," Coulson answered. "I think for the good of SHIELD, I can put aside any personal resentment I might have towards her. Besides, I learn from my mistakes."

"You do," Monroe agreed. "And you and Fury used to make interesting new mistakes. I think this will work."

"And Barton?" Coulson asked. He noticed Apling's eyes narrow slightly.

"He stays with Hill under my supervision," Apling said. "I think its best to keep them separate, make sure they aren't planning anything."

"It sounds like a plan, Gentleman," Monroe declared. "Let's get the paperwork done on this. Fury, you'll be in charge of debriefing Widow."

"What?" Apling said, "But sir? That's part of my job..."

"For hostiles Winston. Widow is not a hostile, she's an asset; if she doesn't cooperate, she'll come to you." Monroe said, before getting up. Apling followed after him.

"You up for getting a bite?" Fury asked when they were gone.

"Diner?" Coulson suggested and when Fury nodded, he added, "Only if we take a cab."

"Sounds good," Fury agreed. They made their way to the diner, talking about inconsequential things until they were in the diner and had their food.

"So Barton...?" Fury asked.

"Is Clint," Coulson answered.

"Bar Clint?"

Coulson nodded.

"Fuck," Fury growled as he considered this.

"He doesn't know I work for SHIELD, and I told him I was going on a dangerous mission, before Widow almost killed me," Coulson added with a soft sigh.

"Apling caught your interest in Barton," Fury stated.

"You think he knows that we're working to prevent him from becoming the next director?" Coulson asked.

"Yeah, he might," Fury agreed.

"So what do we do?" Coulson asked.

"If Apling knows you two are close..."

"Then Apling could use Clint against us," Coulson sighed. He didn't want to do this, but it made sense. Apling used a lot of methods that Fury and Coulson disagreed with. He wanted to keep Clint safe, and right now there was no way that they could get Clint free from Apling and Hill's control.

"He's going to be watched closely," Fury said softly.

"I know," Phil said, "I...I won't go looking for him."

Fury nodded, "Give it some time, we'll try and get him to work under one of our handlers after a bit."

Coulson nodded, he didn't like it, but he knew he'd have to go through with it. Clint didn't need to be a part of the same politics that Coulson was, especially since Clint was going to leave as soon as his contract was up—and that would be soon. Clint had done something good and deserved to have his reward: his freedom. Phil would track him down once Fury was director.

It was a few days later—when Coulson was officially cleared from medical to do deskwork—that Coulson knocked on the door to Widow's assigned barracks. The door opened slightly and a green eye looked at him.

"Agent Romanova, I'm Agent Coulson," Phil said. "I think it’s time we had a discussion."

"Romanoff," the woman said.

"Agent Romanoff, it is," Coulson agreed. "Would you like to go to a conference room, I reserved one." 

"Yes," she said, stepping out of the room while barely opening the door. Coulson led the way to the conference room and let Agent Romanoff choose her seat. Coulson took a seat that was out of her direct path to the door.

Coulson flipped open his folder, "We have some paperwork to complete with your employment. You'd prefer the anglicized version of your last name?" 

"Yes," Romanoff said. "And I'd prefer Natasha as well. I've been going by that for a while now."

Coulson nodded and filled in the paperwork, "You'll be restricted to the SHIELD base until we know we can trust you."

"I understand."

"I already know you're an expert in hand-to-hand, how are you with firearms?"

"Not as good as Barton, but I can handle my own."

"Preference?"

"Glock 26," Romanoff answered.

Coulson nodded, taking notes. He asked several more questions to fill in the paperwork, interspersing them with more detailed questions that he felt he should know the answers to in order to ensure that Widow was at her most effective. When he was finished, he slid a sheet of paper to her. "Your schedule for tomorrow; there's very little training that you'll need to go through, but we would like to verify your skill level."

"Understood," Natasha said, taking it.

"Any questions?" Coulson asked.

"Are you under orders to do this?" Natasha asked.

"Yes, but my supervisor knows me well enough to know that I wouldn't object to this assignment," Coulson admitted.

"Why? I killed your man. I was trying to kill you."

"We were also trying to kill you," Coulson pointed out. "Why'd you come in?"

"Barton, he saved me. There aren't many people who would think I was worth saving," Natasha said. "And... I'm tired of running."

"Not too tired, I hope. I have an excellent success ratio and would hate to see it go down," Coulson said.

"The mission is to be completed at all costs?" Natasha asked, studying him.

"Yes, but even if it isn't listed in the objectives, I prefer to bring everyone back alive," Coulson added. "That's always my prime objective."

"You failed on your last mission," Natasha pointed out.

"I knew that Op was a clusterfuck waiting to happen," Coulson admitted. "And if Binici had waited for me to get a shot off, before going to engage you, he might still be alive. That was the plan we made."

"How long did you work with him?" Natasha asked.

"That was our fifth operation together. He was hotheaded, overeager and didn't trust me to make the call."

"You think I'm going to be different?"

"Yes," Coulson said, simply. "You're not going to be overeager or hotheaded, and given time, you may trust me to make the actual call."

"You think I'll be around that long?"

"You're a fighter, Agent Romanoff, everything in your files points to that," Coulson said, honestly. "So unless you're planning on leaving SHIELD, I think you'll be around for a very long time."

"Working with you?"

"For now," Coulson agreed. "But once SHIELD trusts you, I don't think you'll need a handler very often."

Natasha regarded him, before nodding. 

"This partnership has potential," Coulson said, moving to get up. "I look forward to developing it."

Coulson made it to the door, before Natasha spoke up, "You're not going to remind me that Barton's freedom depends on my good behavior?"

Coulson froze, turning to look at her. "I'm sorry?"

"Apling said that I have to behave along with Agent Barton or they'll add more time to his contract," Natasha explained. She studied him, "You didn't know about this?"

"No," Coulson said, "I was aware that Agent Barton was working with us in exchange for having his prison sentence commuted, but not that." Coulson considered that bit of information. "I'll only be writing you up if you actually deserve to be written up, Agent."

Romanoff's eyes narrowed as she looked at him, "You don't like Apling."

"No," Coulson replied honestly.

"Then we have something we agree on," Natasha said.

Coulson nodded, "Enjoy the rest of your evening." Natasha nodded and he exited.

Over the next few months, Coulson worked with Natasha and slowly gained her trust on missions. On the few occasions when Barton was out on assignment, she even deigned to join him in the cafeteria—if they happened to be there at the same time and he was seated by himself. She only joined him with Sitwell once and that was when they were in the midst of discussing a reality tv show by the name of _Supernannny_. (Phil had lost his two sport buddies and started watching reality TV at home, instead of going to the bar). Coulson wasn't too surprised that Natasha seemed to have figured out that he and Fury were plotting on how to get Fury to the top of the SHIELD hierarchy—she was one of the best spies he'd ever seen. She would even give him tidbits that would lead him to something that she knew would make their case a little stronger.

It wasn't too surprising that one night in January that Natasha showed up in his office. Coulson startled, because the door hadn't opened and yet Natasha was standing in front of his desk waiting for him. The surprising thing was that she looked absolutely stone-faced. Coulson knew that Natasha had a reputation for being an ice queen, but her reactions were typically minute: a slight curl of the lips to indicate her amusement, a slight downward tilt of her eyebrows when she was annoyed. This was the expression she got when she was being handed orders that she didn't approve of. This was the face that Coulson knew meant he needed to pull her in and tear apart whatever plan the echelon of SHIELD had handed him, and find a way to make it work for them. This was a face that hadn't been seen in months outside of being given a mission briefing (though some of the younger agents had seen it when they'd offended her).

"Agent Romanoff?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"I was doing some digging," Romanoff said, setting a file down on his desk.

Coulson took the file and started looking at it. Inside were the file sheets of several deceased agents that ranged throughout several departments. When he was done, he looked up at her, failing to see the connection that she had.

"They're all jailbirds recruited by Apling or one of his people," Romanoff said.

"They're all like Agent Barton," Coulson surmised and she nodded once, quick and sharp. "You're concerned for his safety." 

"They sent them on suicide missions," Romanoff replied. "He goes out there alone with Hill, who doesn't change things to make sure they suit him like you do with me. Hill takes her orders from Apling and just..."

"Goes with his plan," Coulson agreed, frowning. "What would you like me to do?"

"I'm not going to betray SHIELD— just put me in the field with him, so I can watch his back," Romanoff requested.

Coulson nodded, "I will see what I can do."

"Coulson..." Romanoff started.

"Agent, if I could make you that promise I would, but I can't," Coulson said. "I will try to find a way to make this work.

Natasha nodded, "Thank you."

"You're welcome, Agent Romanoff," Coulson said, closing the folder. He waited for her to go and then forced himself to finish the work he was doing, before he headed to Nick's office. He let himself in, causing Nick to look up from his own work with a raised eyebrow as Phil closed and locked his door.

"What's the matter, Cheese?" Nick asked.

"They're killing the jailbirds, they recruit," Coulson said, tossing the folder down. "Which means despite my best efforts to stay away, Barton is still in danger."

"Shit," Fury said after looking through the pages. He closed it and stared out the window, clearly trying to come up with something.

"Romanoff wants to go in the field with Barton, and watch his back," Coulson said.

"She hasn't pulled a runner, neither has he, since she's been allowed off base," Fury agreed, nodding. "Find a mission where it makes sense to have them out together."

Coulson nodded, "We don't want Hill running the op."

"We say that and they're not going to want you, either," Fury said.

"I know..." Coulson agreed, considering it. "Sitwell would be my first choice. He knows both of them."

"Find a mission, Cheese," Fury ordered. "I'll start trying to figure out a way to get Barton out from under Hill's thumb. You leave that one to me, understood?"

"Yeah," Coulson agreed with a nod. It took another week to find a mission, another two days to convince Hill, and when the mission was completed it was a success. Such a success that Monroe himself recommended that the two of them work together more often. It gave them breathing room why continued to work on freeing Barton from his contract.

At least, Coulson thought it did. He was in Vienna waiting for Barton and Romanoff to complete their op of a little mayhem and destruction while he was keeping an eye on some people who was sure was invested in what Barton and Romanoff were after. He wanted to see their reactions, it was just simple surveillance, while working with a young team. For the most part, he was letting Agent Morse run it while he oversaw it. She was about due for a promotion and this was a field test for her to see how she managed running the operation at hand. They were reacting as Coulson thought they would—not exactly panicking but clearly worried—when Fury called and informed him that Barton had failed to make it to the extraction point.

Widow wanted to go after him, but was holding off and keeping Sitwell and Fury apprised of the situation. Coulson told Fury to get clearance for a rescue op. Then had Sitwell inform Widow that he was two hours out and to take care of the surveillance portion of the rescue. He left Morse in charge of finishing the Vienna portion of the operation, which was basically just heading to their own extraction point. He went to help Widow save Clint, and save him they did, though Clint was far worse for wear than on any other mission.

Once on base, Coulson returned to keeping his distance, trying not to let Apling and Hill know of his interest in the sniper. He does get rightfully angry at them for almost messing up his operation with Hill's little sidequest. He also made polite inquiries about Barton whenever he ran into her. He monitored the other man remotely, checking in every so often to ensure that Barton was recovering. Natasha informed him after Barton woke up, while eyeing him suspiciously, something she had been doing since Budapest. Coulson didn’t want to think about what it meant. Still, he knew that Clint was recovering, but when he checked the remote monitor and discovered the other man was gone, he very quietly panicked. Then he looked at the footage, and followed Clint out the building and down the street. Coulson cursed quietly to himself, before he went to find the other man.

Coulson found him at the bar—their bar—the bar he hadn't stepped foot in since Natasha beat the crap out of him. Clint was full of quiet rage that Coulson hadn't told him that he was alive. He had mourned for him and that hurt, because Coulson never wanted Clint to hurt. Coulson tried to apologize, but Clint wouldn't hear it, didn't want it. Coulson watched him walk back towards base alone, because Clint was right—he had made a choice and there wasn't anything he could do until Clint decided to forgive him. He had to respect Clint's decision.

Phil waited a few more minutes, before following Clint back to base. His pace was much slower than when he'd left, but he supposed it didn't matter. He made it back to his office and hustled in when he caught the phone ringing.

"Coulson," he said picking it up.

"Cheese, my office," Fury's voice came through, before a click. Coulson resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He hung the phone up and headed to Fury's office. The door was open, so he slipped in and closed it behind him. "I can't believe we missed this."

"Missed what?" Coulson asked.

"The Barton situation, he can request a new handler, even if he is a jailbird," Fury said. "Given a situation where he feels that his current handler doesn't have his best interests in mind."

Coulson frowned, thinking about. "Because she sent him on that mission?"

"And he got hurt; he'll be out for a couple of weeks," Fury stated, looking at him. "Any other times?"

"He broke his arm on a mission, I think," Coulson said, thinking back. "At least, he said he broke it at work."

"Good, do you remember when?" 

"About a year ago," Coulson said, remembering watching one of the first few baseball games of the year together.

"Great," Fury said, tossing a file at him, which Phil caught. "I sent you the form, you want to fill it out?"

"I can, but who is he going to work with?" Coulson asked.

"You," Fury said. "Team him up with Romanoff."

"He won't want to work with me," Coulson said, shaking his head and glancing away.

"Cheese?"

"He's angry that I never told him who I was, that I basically faked my death," Phil admitted.

"Shit," Fury growled, leaning back in his chair. "I can talk to him, throw some facts at him."

"Give him his freedom," Phil suggested.

"What do you mean?"

"If you become director, then you'll honor his contract and release him," Phil said.

"He's a good agent," Fury pointed out.

"He took the job, thinking it would be up in a couple years," Coulson pointed out, forcing himself to get his mind back on task. "Honor the contract. He's done more than enough to honor his side of the bargain. We want to be better than Apling, right?"

"Yeah," Fury agreed.

"Besides, if he works with you, maybe he'll want to stay afterwards," Coulson suggested.

Fury nodded, "Fine. Fill the form out, get the signatures, and I'll convince him." He paused before adding, "Or you'll get Romanoff to do the convincing."

"Fine," Coulson agreed. "I'll brief her on that mission."

Fury snorted, "Good luck with that."

Coulson headed back to his office, wondering if he could have changed things. He probably could have, but it was too late now. Clint had made it clear that he didn't want anything to do with him and considering everything that was going on in Clint's life, Coulson needed to respect that decision, even if it was the very last thing he wanted to do. He worked the rest of the day and then went home to his empty apartment. 

Nick had practically moved out, but continued to pay his rent for those days that he needed to get away from SHIELD. Tonight though, the place seemed emptier than usual. He made himself a TV dinner, watched a bit of TV and went to bed. Coulson rather expected to wake up with Natasha hovering over him with a knife for lying to Clint, but he didn't. He woke up the next morning feeling semi-refreshed. He showered, grabbed some donuts on his way in and went straight to his office, where he found Natasha.

She waited until the door closed, before she asked, "So you're his Phil?"

"Yes," Coulson agreed.

"How long have you known?"

"Since he went on the run with you," Coulson answered honestly.

"Why didn't you tell him?"

"I knew he was unhappy working for SHIELD and I thought he would be safer if I stayed away," Coulson answered.

Natasha considered, "You truly believe that?"

"I did," Coulson said, walking over to take a seat. "Now I don't."

"Apling wants him dead, and you haven't done anything to get him away," Natasha growled.

"Because I was too close," Coulson replied. "And Fury has a way, but Clint will have to agree to it."

"Agree to it?" Natasha asked.

"You're my asset. If Barton requested to join you because he felt that Hill was not concerned with his safety, then he'd most likely be approved a transfer," Coulson explained. "It's so damn obvious that we really should have thought of it sooner."

Natasha stared at him, "He won't go for that, he doesn't want to be around you."

"I'm aware, but Fury is my direct supervisor, so if he worked for Fury..." Coulson said. "We'd still have some missions together, but..."

"How are you approaching him with this information?" Natasha asked.

"Fury is," Coulson said. "I don't think he'd listen to me."

"No," Natasha agreed, softly. "I'll talk to him too."

"Thank you," Coulson said.

"For him, not for you," Natasha said, getting to her feet.

"For what its worth, Agent, I am sorry for what happened," Coulson said, before she opened it. "I did not mean to hurt him."

"Did you tell him that?" Natasha asked.

"I apologized," Coulson said. "And I'm going to respect his decision, unless the job requires differently."

Natasha looked at him and nodded, before slipping out. Coulson breathed a sigh of relief; Natasha was understandably unhappy with him, but she would probably get over it. Probably. He went back to work and waited for notification of Fury talking to Clint. It never came, but a few days later, he got an email notifying him that Clint Barton was now under Senior Agent Fury's command. Coulson smiled in his office at that, because Clint would be safe now.

Coulson didn’t go on any missions with Barton at first. He took care of some of the legwork, but first Barton and Fury went on a few missions together, and then Sitwell ran a few ops with Romanoff and Barton. Then came the mission when Fury got pulled at the last second. Coulson had to play catch up and when he came on the line, Barton's first response was, "Where the fuck is Fury?"

"Director needed him," Coulson answered him, staying calm. "Are you in position?"

"Yeah, I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be," Clint grumbled.

"Is there something wrong with that spot?"

"No," Clint said, "But there's a better one and if you had done your job, you'd know that."

"And where is this spot?" Coulson asked, pulling up the map.

"The roof two buildings over; there's a sign that should give me coverage."

"That building is condemned and was deemed unstable," Coulson informed him. "Partly because the staircase collapsed.”

"I could scale the building," Clint commented.

"You don't have time now," Coulson pointed out.

"Well, in the future," Clint fired back.

"I'll keep it in mind," Coulson promised. The op went off without a hitch after that and Coulson soon realized that Fury was slowly weaning Barton off onto him. It was annoying, because Clint was mouthy, brash, reckless, and arrogant. Coulson catalogued it all though, keeping track of his suggestions and his preferences for future ops, because Barton knew what he was doing. He was an incredible asset. He had a brilliant mind and Hill had been wasting it, and turned him so that Barton sneered at the idea of SHIELD. They were so lucky that Barton was at least loyal, because otherwise he and Romanoff would have disappeared together, never to be caught again.

The majority of his chatter was actually information that Coulson could use, information that could make the mission run smoother, hidden in complaints and whining. There was a decent amount of chatter that was designed just to annoy Coulson, which he let Barton get away with more than he should have. Barton was a professional though and he knew how to do his job. After the first mission where Barton knew that Coulson was running lead—and pulled a stunt that any other handler would have written Barton up for—Coulson took great pleasure in leaning into Fury's office.

"Next mission," Coulson said, after Fury had looked up at him. "Have Barton bring his bow." He ducked out, before Fury could ask any follow up questions.

A week later, after Fury and Barton's next op, Fury tracked him to the cafeteria, dropped his plate to the table and exclaimed, "How the hell can he better with a bow and arrow than a gun?"

"I don't know," Coulson said.

"Fuck, you know I heard about him hitting the range with that thing, never thought about using it in the field," Fury said, leaning back in the chair.

"Neither did I," Coulson agreed. "But apparently he did."

"How'd you find out about this?" Fuy asked.

"He brought his bow instead of a rifle on an op," Coulson said. "If he hadn't pulled it off, I would have had to write him up for it, but he pulled it off..."

"So why the fuck bother?" Fury asked with a grin.

"Basically," Coulson agreed.

"We need to keep him, Cheese," Fury stated.

Coulson shrugged, "It has to be his decision, and I think he might have to be let go, in order to let him make that one."

Fury sighed, "I suppose if he does walk, we can always manufacture something, so that Widow needs him on one more mission."

Coulson shook his head, "I won't help you with that."

"Playing favorites?"

"He deserves to make his own choices," Coulson said with a slight shrug. 

Fury nodded and they started talking about a few other things. The next solo mission, Coulson went out of his way to tell Barton to bring a gun to see how he would react. Barton brought the bow—Coulson wasn't surprised. From then on always told him to bring a gun, which Barton never listened to and in return Coulson made sure to make appropriate frustrated remarks. Coulson never did anything, never said more than 'with a gun', because he was humoring his agent to a certain degree. He hoped that when and if there came a mission where Barton needed to use a gun, he would be able to stress that fact and Barton would listen.

Barton never did need to have a gun on one of Coulson's ops, at least not while Monroe was in charge. Not too long after Barton joined them, Natasha returned from an op with information for Fury and Coulson. With that information at hand, the two of them started running minor side ops along with their regular ops, primarily using Natasha and a few others who would prefer not to see Apling become the next director. It was becoming increasingly obvious that Monroe was not going to last much longer.

It took them a few months, but finally all the information came together and Fury had a solid case against Apling. Natasha had just gotten back with the last key piece of information, and Barton was an op with Sitwell. Fury called and requested a meeting with Monroe on Thursday. That night a notice went out stating that all senior staff were to report to a meeting first thing on Friday. Coulson went with Fury and saw that Apling was not only getting fired, but also was going to be tried for his crimes. He was likely going to put in a cell for a very long time.

It was all too much for Monroe, who saw it as a sign that he had become complacent and that it was time to hand over the reins. The meeting went long into Friday night as they discussed who should take over the job. They took a break, returned on Saturday, and got into the arguments all over again until they finally decided upon Fury. Monroe pulled Fury into his office and Coulson was left to clean up, mentally exhausted. He planned to head home and crash, but bumped into Sitwell on his way out, which meant Clint was back.

Coulson knew he shouldn't, but honestly, he just wanted to be in Clint's presence a bit, so he headed to the bar. He smiled, when he found Clint watching a game. He stopped at the bar to get a beer and then made his way over, spotting Natasha a lot later than he should have, considering his job. He plunked down in the seat, reached up to loosen his tie and glanced at the TV. They weren’t his teams nor were they Clint’s, so he asked, "Northwestern?"

“Won,” Clint replied.

Coulson nodded, “Cyclones?”

“Won.”

“Congrats.”

“Thanks.”

“Seriously?” Natasha asked, looking between the two of them, “You used to go on and on about these long football conversations you had.”

"Bit tired," Coulson answered, as Clint said, "That was before." Clint must have heard him, judging by the look and the fries being nudged in his direction. Coulson couldn't contain his smile though and he dug into the fries, not having realized how hungry he was until just then. It was a nice and relaxing way to spend the rest of the evening. Anything was better than listening to old, white men bickering over who could be the better director — seriously, they needed to get some diversity in the upper echelon — but this was actually better than how he had expected to spend his evening. He groaned, realizing he was thinking of work, which caused both agents to arch their eyebrows at him.

"Okay, that's kind of creepy," he noted, because it was clearly a mannerism one of them had learned and perfected from the other. 

The pair glanced at one another, huffed (Clint) or smiled slightly (Natasha), and shrugged, before looking back at him. "Long day?" Clint asked.

"Days," Coulson said, emphasizing the plural.

"Been busy while I was gone?" Clint asked.

"You have no idea," Coulson said.

"You've been in meetings," Natasha scoffed.

"All day yesterday and most of today," Coulson objected. "Listening to the same arguments go round and round." He paused, "I think I want to go into the field and shoot something."

"You can hit the range?" Clint suggested.

"Mmm, maybe tomorrow, right now I'd probably hurt myself," Coulson admitted.

"Come on, let's head back then," Clint said, "Before you pass out on us."

Coulson nodded and pushed himself to his feet. He smiled fondly as his agents flanked him.

"Where we headed?" Clint asked.

"Back to HQ," Coulson decided. It wasn't worth going home now, he was going to have to come back tomorrow anyway.

“You live at HQ?” Clint asked, sounding curious.

“No, but there’s going to be plenty of paperwork to fill out tomorrow, so I might as well as stay there tonight,” Coulson answered.

“Paperwork for…?” Natasha asked, eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“You’ll find out on Monday with the rest of SHIELD,” Coulson replied, unable to stop the slight smile.

“Should we start calling you Deputy Director Coulson?” Clint asked.

Coulson laughed, because no, he had no desire to be that, “No, definitely not. There’s someone much more suited to be Fury’s second in command.”

“I thought you were his one good eye,” Clint pointed out. Coulson wanted to laugh, because whoever had come up with that needed to have their sanity checked. Nick only needed one eye to see everything he needed to.

“I am," he said, because he was Fury's right hand man. "Which means I’ll be needed in the field, whereas the deputy director rarely goes into the field."

“So who's it going to be?” Clint asked.

“I think Fury is following that old adage, keep your enemies close,” Coulson replied, though that was a guess since they had barely discussed it. Fury kept offering it to Coulson out of gratitude for his help, but Coulson had no desire to be involved as the deputy director. Fury needed someone on the ground who he trusted.

“Apling?” Clint asked.

Natasha snorted, before correcting him, “Hill.” Coulson glanced at her, surprised that she had figured out who Fury was thinking of.

“Really?” Clint asked, looking at both of them.

“Hill will keep Fury on his toes, and won’t let him become complacent like Monroe,” Coulson explained.

“And you would?” Clint asked, sounding skeptical that Coulson would let Fury do that.

“Fury and I have known each other too long,” Coulson said. “We’ve been friends since we were in the Rangers. I’d never intend to, but it could happen.”

“Plus it starts healing the rift that was there,” Natasha added. “It’s a good move.” They fell silent the rest of the way, split up in the hallway and wished one another a good night as they went their separate ways. Well, Coulson went his separate way; Natasha and Clint stuck together.

He spent most of that Sunday alone in his office, though Natasha and Clint brought him dinner, which he appreciated. The rest of the week was spent helping Fury get things in order for the takeover and filling out the paperwork for Barton's exit. He was fairly sure that Barton was going to come back, but he wasn't completely certain. 

The next couple of weeks flew by. With Barton gone and Natasha on an op with Sitwell, there weren’t any distractions, so he was rather surprised to glance up one afternoon and find Barton in his doorway. 

"Break time," Barton announced.

Coulson kind of thought he was imagining things and had fallen asleep at his desk, but he arched an eyebrow and said, "I need to finish this?"

"Is the world going to end, if you don't?" Clint asked, as Coulson opened up his email, which he hadn't checked in a few days. 

He skimmed it as he answered, "No."

"Then break time, let's go watch the game," Barton said. Coulson found an email with the subject of, _I owe you ten _. He clicked it open.__

__"You want me to watch the game with you?" Coulson asked as he read the short email and barely resisted the urge to smile._ _

__"Yeah, now will you get a move on? The Cyclones are playing Texas," Clint said, clearly in a rush to get back._ _

__"I'm surprised you left," Coulson said, moving to stand and stretch after sitting too long at the desk. Clint huffed softly at him, clearly ready to get back to the game. Coulson tagged along with him and watched, if he was honest, a bit of a boring game due to an almost blowout by Texas and a large rain delay. It was alright though, because he had some of Clint's forgiveness and Clint's hand was warm against his as they watched the rest of the game._ _

__It wasn't perfect—they didn't enter into a romantic relationship. Instead they worked on their friendship, getting to know one another again. This time they talked about their jobs to a certain degree, though it wasn’t like they didn't know what was going on with the other’s job. Fury's new deal with Clint meant they worked together more, and combined with Natasha, they were an effective force on the job—something that was proven during their first few missions._ _

__After those first few missions, Fury called him into his office._ _

__"I got something for you," Fury said, "You can consider it a late thank you gift."_ _

__Coulson arched his eyebrow, reaching for the envelope that was sitting on the desk. He pulled it open and smiled at the contents._ _

__"Not going to lie, Cheese," Fury said, "We're going to be busier than ever."_ _

__"Yeah," Coulson agreed._ _

__"I want you to call your family and go," Fury said, "I know you'll be useless to me otherwise."_ _

__"Well the Bears haven't played in a Super Bowl since '85," Coulson said._ _

__"Exactly," Fury said. "Go, see your family, because I can't guarantee when it’s going to happen again."_ _

__Coulson nodded, "Thanks Nick."_ _

__That little meeting resulted in a few phone calls to his family. The first was to his parents who were overjoyed at being able to go, especially his father. Sarah was not quite as excited, but then she did have two girls and the eldest had no interest in sports. (She was however, going to be the first Prima Ballerina President.) She was hesitant to accept the tickets, but Phil could hear her husband in the background going, "Phil, has Super Bowl tickets? Don't turn him down!"_ _

__"We really need to think about it," Sarah said._ _

__"I'm looking for flights now!" John yelled in the background._ _

__Sarah sighed as Phil said, "Tell John I'll take care of the plane tickets too."_ _

__"Really?" Sarah asked._ _

__"Fully paid vacation, you could fly into Orlando, go to Disney World?" Phil suggested. "Both of the girls would like that, right?"_ _

__"They would," Sarah agreed._ _

__"Mom and Dad are going," Phil added._ _

__"Chester?" Sarah asked._ _

__"He's my next call," Phil admitted, because he wasn't looking forward to calling his brother. They still didn't get along._ _

__"Lemme see if we can get time off..." Sarah said._ _

__"My boss says I should go," John yelled in the background._ _

__Sarah sighed again, "Why did I marry him?"_ _

__"I don't know, I advised against it. He's a White Sox fan," Phil answered._ _

__Sarah laughed, softly, "I know, I'm a family traitor. It's probably going to be a yes."_ _

__"Let me know when you want to fly in," Phil encouraged, "And out."_ _

__"Thank you Phil," Sarah said. Phil disconnected and took a deep breath before he called Chester's phone number._ _

__"Hello," Chester said, picking up on the first ring._ _

__"Chester," Phil greeted, unable to keep from smiling._ _

__"Hello Phillip," Chester said. "You do realize that I legally changed my name years ago?"_ _

__"I do, but you're always going to be Chester," Phil said. "How's the band?" Chester had become a manager of a death metal group. Phil really didn't care for their music, but Chester took his job seriously._ _

__Chester sighed, "They're the same as ever. How's the government?"_ _

__"The big boss retired, so I got a promotion of sorts," Phil answered._ _

__"Congratulations," Chester said. He paused, pulling the phone away, "What are you...? Can't you see I'm on the phone." Chester sighed, "Phillip, we're going to have cut this short."_ _

__"They've done something stupid again?" Phil asked._ _

__"Like you wouldn't believe," Chester deadpanned._ _

__"Right, well, to cut to the point, I have Super Bowl tickets for the family, interested?" Phil asked. "Bears are playing."_ _

__"I am," Chester said, "However, the band is supposed to start touring next month."_ _

__"Can't get away?"_ _

__"Remember what I told you the last time we talked?"_ _

__"Herding cats would be easier?"_ _

__"So much easier," Chester agreed, "I'm going to have to pass."_ _

__Phil chuckled, "Your loss."_ _

__"I'm aware," Chester agreed, and Phil heard a crash in the background followed by shouting. "I have to go."_ _

__"Good luck," Phil said, before he heard Chester hang up. He sighed, but he wasn't really surprised—Chester was as committed to his band as Phil was to SHIELD. It seemed bizarre toi Phil, but more importantly, he realized he was left with an extra ticket. Phil considered, before going down to the range, where he found Barton practicing. He made some noise as he approached, so he didn't startle the archer and when Clint found a point where he felt he could stop, he turned and looked at Phil._ _

__"What's up?" Clint asked. "Got a job?"_ _

__"No, actually, Fury gave my family and me tickets for the Super Bowl," Phil said._ _

__"'Cause da Bears are playing?" Clint asked._ _

__"Watching SNL reruns?" Phil asked, smiling as Clint's grin widened. "But yes. My brother can't make it, so I have an extra."_ _

__Clint arched an eyebrow._ _

__"Would you like to join us?"_ _

__"Me?" Clint asked, "Going to a family event."_ _

__"We'd go as friends.They're my tickets, I have a right to give them to whoever I wish," Phil said. "And I know you enjoy football."_ _

__"What about Sitwell?" Clint asked, looking down at his bow._ _

__"Jasper doesn't care about football, he prefers hockey," Phil answered. "I can call my family and see if they have anyone else to take, but I thought I would offer it to you first."_ _

__Clint stared at him as he considered, "Let me see if I can get time off for it."_ _

__"Of course," Phil agreed. "Let me know what you want to do. I know my family will come up with a whole agenda, but you don't have to do any of that. You're welcome to join us if you want, but you don't have to."_ _

__"Yeah?" Clint asked, and Phil nodded. "Thanks."_ _

__Phil ended up taking a few extra days off to go to Disney World with his family. The girls loved it. Clint showed up early on Sunday for the actual game and met them all during lunch beforehand. They got to the game early and Phil enjoyed himself. Clint seemed to get along with everybody. Unfortunately, three quarters of the game were horrible, and even worse, the good quarter was the first quarter. The Coulson family and Clint headed back to the hotel. He and Clint were sharing a room, because Clint was only going to be there for the one night. When they got there and said their good nights, Clint flopped onto the bed, "I'm glad I wasn't emotionally invested in that game. The Bears kinda sucked tonight."_ _

__"I'm aware," Phil replied, shooting a glare at him. Clint just grinned at him and Phil turned to use the bathroom._ _

__"Thanks for inviting me," Clint said, when he came back out. "I had fun."_ _

__"Good," Phil said. "I hope my family wasn't too overbearing."_ _

__"Nah, I can see where you get it though," Clint said._ _

__"Where I get what?" Phil asked._ _

__"That 'You will be listen to me' voice," Clint said, squirming to snuggle into the bed more._ _

__"Oh?" Phil asked._ _

__"Your mom has it and your sister has it," Clint said. "They got their husbands and their family in line. Even you stand a little straighter when your mother gets pissed."_ _

__"I think it’s the Phillips genes," Phil remarked._ _

__"The what?" Clint asked, turning to look at him._ _

__"My mother's father’s last name was Phillips," Phil admitted._ _

__Clint made a face, "So they gave you his last name?"_ _

__Phil laughed, softly. "Actually my father's father’s name was Phillip, Chester was named after my maternal grandfather and he has since changed his full name."_ _

__"Aw, he didn't want to be a badass Coulson?" Clint asked._ _

__"Apparently not," Phil said. "We started calling him CK when he was in high school and right before he got a job managing whatever his band is called, he changed it."_ _

__"Damn," Clint said, before murmuring softly, "This bed is really comfy."_ _

__"Then go to sleep," Phil said, because he knew that Clint had come straight from a mission._ _

__"But I wanna hear about the badass Coulsons some more," Clint whined softly._ _

__"You can ask anytime," Phil pointed out._ _

__"Mmm," Clint grunted, eyes closing, before he forced them open. "Dinner, my place, next time we're in town together, proper thank you?"_ _

__"You don't have to, Nick paid for everything. But if you want to, then yes," Phil said._ _

__"Want to," Clint agreed, before falling asleep._ _

__Coulson was pleasantly surprised when Clint offered again a few days later. He offered to make dessert in return and soon they had started a new tradition. When they were in New York, Clint would cook for all of them, and in return, Coulson would bake a dessert. Clint had a sweet tooth—which he didn't indulge often—but Phil noticed that his homemade scones had a tendency to disappear the quickest. Clint and Phil would often watch a game afterward and when winter rolled around, there was a good natured argument about which sport to watch: hockey or basketball, invariably causing Natasha to head to her room, as she rolled her eyes and muttered under her breath._ _

__Work kept them busy for the most part. They would steal a night or two together to hang out and watch a game, but more often than not that tended to be when one of them, usually Clint, was injured. It seemed like Phil blinked and college football season was on. He yawned, and suddenly found himself watching the Super Bowl in a hospital bed with Clint beside him in a plastic chair, watching Jasper rant and rave because the Giants were in the game._ _

__At one point, Clint leaned over and asked, "I thought he wasn't into football?"_ _

__"He's from New York; they're always happy to beat teams from Boston," Phil noted softly. Clint looked at Sitwell and then back at the TV, before nodding._ _

__"Crazy New Yorkers," he said softly._ _

__"Midwest is so much better," Phil agreed softly, smiling when he saw the smile on Clint's face._ _

__"I heard that," Jasper said, "And if they're so much better, why aren't they here? Oh, that's right, the Bears didn't even make the playoffs."_ _

__Phil glared at him. Clint glanced between the two of them and asked, "You want me to throw him out, Sir?"_ _

__"No, Bear fans have better manners than that," Phil said, attempting the high road. Jasper snorted in laughter._ _

__Clint met his eyes before getting to his feet and yelling, "C'mon Patriots!" Phil had a front row seat to watch his two friends attempt to yell over one another, until a nurse came in and glared at them to be quiet. It worked, though Jasper was unbearably smug as he left that night. Clint patted his shoulder before leaving and offered, "Bears will get 'em next year."_ _

__Phil missed the 2009 Super Bowl, and also the majority of the 2010 Super Bowl. He tried to catch more of the 2010, because he had completely missed it the previous year—and at least the Colts were semi-local—but the job came first as always, which appeared to be his life’s motto. He realized that things with Clint hadn't progressed beyond friendship and that Clint didn’t seem to want more. Phil wasn't going to force the issue, because he still worried about pushing Clint too much, and he wanted to respect Clint's decisions. They had a great friendship now, and he wondered if that was all there was to it for Clint. Either way, it was enough for Phil. Somedays, he wondered if he should ask about the possibility, but before he could get his nerve up, something inevitably would come up, keeping both Clint and him too busy to talk. There were times he didn't see his apartment for months and Clint's schedule wasn't any easier. Phil resolved to talk to Clint about it soon though._ _

__Soon never happened, as there was a supposed Hulk sighting—in Australia of all places—that needed to be looked into. Fury sent Phil out there to try and find Banner to talk to him and also get someone to track him. They couldn't find him though and Phil did everything he could to get him to show. They got a report after Phil had been Down Under for a couple months, that stated that the Hulk had been spotted in Canada. Fury recalled him and Phil came home and barely had enough time to readjust his sleep his schedule, before going to deal with a dictator in South America. He didn't even get to see Clint before leaving again, though they did send one another random texts from time to time. Clint kept him up to date on the Cubs whenever he could, because Clint was fucking wonderful._ _

__It took another few months for their schedules to align and when they did, Clint showed up at his office door just as Phil was reaching for his phone to call him._ _

__"Baseball—let's get out of here, before I have to rescue a kitten from a tree," Clint said, looking exhausted._ _

__"Right," Phil agreed, pulling his cell phone out and tossing it on his desk._ _

__Clint's eyes widened, "No phone? For me? I'm touched."_ _

__"Need a break," Phil admitted, before pushing his way past Clint and heading towards their bar. They caught up as they ate burgers and beer while watching the game. Coulson smiled as he realized that despite their mutual exhaustion, they were both happy._ _

__"So…uh, listen, I kinda wanted to talk to you about something," Clint said as an inning ended._ _

__"Sure," Phil agreed, smiling at him. "Whatever you want to talk about."_ _

__"You remember before..." Clint started and Coulson meant to pay attention, but there was a special alert on the television. Normally it wouldn't drag his attention away, but the headlines read: _Tony Stark Kidnapped by Terrorists_ and that was going to be a SHIELD concern, because Stark was the biggest weapons maker._ _

__"Shit," Coulson breathed._ _

__"Phil? Are you listening to me?" Clint said._ _

__Coulson looked apologetically at Clint, "I'm sorry, we’ve gotta go back to work."_ _

__"What?" Clint asked, looking frustrated. "Did you hear a word I said?"_ _

__"Clint, look," Phil said, pointing at the TV._ _

__Clint sighed and looked, "That the Stark of Stark Industries, the weapons manufacturer?"_ _

__"Yeah, it is."_ _

__"Fuck," Clint breathed, and raised a hand to signal for their bill._ _

__"I'm sorry, it's just..."_ _

__"The job comes first?"_ _

__"Yeah," Coulson agreed. "What was it you were saying?"_ _

__Clint glanced at the TV and then back at Coulson, "It can wait, let's go save the billionaire."_ _

__Coulson smiled, and led the way back to SHIELD. HQ was already at full alert and Fury was waiting for Coulson just outside his office._ _

__"You forget something, agent?" Fury asked, tossing him his phone. Coulson caught it and tucked it into his pocket._ _

__"I came as soon as the news broke," Coulson answered._ _

__"Yeah, I need you at the site yesterday," Fury said, holding up his Go-bag. "I want details, Coulson."_ _

__"Yes, Sir."_ _

__"Helicopter is ready to go upstairs," Fury ordered. Coulson hurried off toward the staircase._ _

__It was a whirlwind trip. He investigated the site, took as many pictures as he could, and interviewed the survivors. He was on a flight back as soon as he was done and went straight to report to Fury. There had been no ransom demands for Stark yet, and Fury suspected that was because whoever snagged him wanted something out of him, something more valuable than money. Stark had been in Afghanistan to debut his new Jericho missiles, and all signs suggested that he had been taken by a terrorist group known as the Ten Rings. Someone had to go looking for Stark, but Fury wasn't willing to let him go; instead, he sent him to interview Stane to ensure that Stark wouldn't be a threat if he was turned._ _

__Stane was a dead end. Stark built the weapons, while Stane and Rhodes were in charge of distributing them and putting them to use, respectively. Stane wasn't sure if Stark knew any of the codes for deploying the weapons. He reported all of that to Fury and then tried to get put back on the search for Stark, but Fury insisted it was out of their jurisdiction._ _

__Coulson narrowed his eyes and realized that Fury had another team on that aspect and just wasn't talking about it, which meant they were deep undercover. Coulson noticed a lack of both Hill and Barton over the next few months, which meant they were likely the ones looking for Stark. They both had a background with the Marines (more so with Hill) and Barton's eyesight would be useful when looking out there in the desert and its cave systems._ _

__Coulson was assigned to investigate Stark Industries, because Fury had a hunch and something didn't sit right with him. Coulson was in Los Angeles when Stark was found three months after his disappearance and he met Fury at the LA base when he touched down, leading him to SHIELD’s LA command center._ _

__"Stark's plane touches down at Edwards in three hours. You want a full debrief?" Coulson asked as they entered the room._ _

__"If possible, but don't push too hard yet. What I really want is a sense of whose side he's on, without setting off alarm bells," Fury answered._ _

__Coulson studied him a moment, "You think think they brainwashed him.?"_ _

__"I think he was in that cave a long time," Fury answered, going over to the monitor bank and fiddling with it. "I think his story about the terrorists' ammo dump 'accidentally' exploding is bull and I think having a mole running around Stark Industries would make the Ten Rings a world power."_ _

__Coulson nodded his agreement as Fury pulled up some surveillance footage._ _

__"Sitwell caught this, going over surveillance satellites that were scanning Kunar Province 24/7. Its from about when Stark escaped," Fury said, pointing at the enlarged footage._ _

__Coulson peered at it, "Could be debris, could be a missile. It almost looks man shaped?"_ _

__Fury nodded, "Something doesn't sit right with me about this whole mess."_ _

__Coulson nodded._ _

__"So, let's play the what if game? What if they had Stark build them weapons, but they didn’t have the right tools, and it all went up in flames," Fury said, indicating the footage._ _

__Coulson could see where this was going and interrupted, "Why not send him back, where he has everything he needs."_ _

__Fury nodded, "Exactly, your report on Stark Industries?"_ _

__"Something doesn't add up with the finances," Coulson replied as he considered it. "But war profiteering isn't exactly new."_ _

__"Neither is treason. Find out how bad this is, Coulson? We can't have our best weapons maker in the palms of terrorists!"_ _

__Coulson nodded and headed out to meet up with Stark. He didn't get a chance to speak to him at the airport, but he did get an alert that Stark was holding a press conference. That turned out to be even worse; there were far too many people around and demanding Stark's attention. There wasn't anyone demanding Pepper Potts' attention though, so Coulson went over and introduced himself. He requested a meeting and gave her his card, but figured it wouldn't go very far. He'd have to try another method. He stayed nearby for the conference, and watched Stark, trying to determine what was going on in the man's head._ _

__His jaw almost dropped when Stark announced that Stark Industries was no longer going to be making any weapons. Coulson looked at Potts, who looked as stunned as he felt._ _

__"Miss Potts? Does he...?" Coulson started._ _

__"I'll.... let Mr. Stark's comments speak for themselves," Ms. Potts said, as she stepped away. "Please excuse me, Agent Coulson."_ _

__Coulson watched her leave, and went to report it to Fury, but Fury was unavailable. Coulson filed a report and kept a close eye on the company in the meantime, trying to track down the source of the irregularities. It was almost two weeks later when Fury resurfaced and Coulson gave him the update. They were discussing Potts when one of the techs yelled, "U.A.V. Sighting. We've got visual from the West Coast."_ _

__Coulson and Fury headed over to the monitors and watched._ _

__"What feed is this?" Fury asked._ _

__"We're patched into the local security cameras, Sir," The tech said. "Pulling up satellite feeds on Monitor Rows 1 and 2."_ _

__"That's shaped like a human," Coulson noted, "Why? We're not aerodynamic." He paused, "You don't think there's someone inside that thing?" He hoped not, because he knew one agent who would love it, Barton._ _

__"They're taking it into the upper atmosphere," The tech said. "Looks like it’s icing up and malfunctioning. You couldn't pay me to be in that thing."_ _

__"I know an agent who would love it," Coulson muttered._ _

__"That's the second to last thing we need," Fury said in response. "Pull up the Kunar footage."_ _

__"What's the last thing we need?" Coulson asked._ _

__"Stark," Fury answered. "The last thing we need is for Stark to be in there and damn it, I think he is."_ _

__Coulson looked at monitors and he had to agree with Nick's assessment, "Shit. Get me Sitwell, I need a hack of Stark's mansion. I want everything on his network and I don't want to get caught."_ _

__"I'll talk to Sitwell," Fury said. "There's that big party, you try and arrange another meeting with Stark."_ _

__Coulson nodded, and headed out. He didn't meet with Potts, but Stark was a surprise guest and he managed to get the man to commit to a debriefing scheduled for two days later. He watched Stark flirt with his assistant and then saw a reporter ask him something that clearly upset him. Stark went directly to Stane and whatever Stane said didn't appear to help matters at all._ _

__Sitwell had finished the hack by the next morning and Coulson reported to Fury that it was in fact Stark. They were interrupted by another tech, who pulled up an Air Force feed. They both watched and listened as Stark made it through a no-fly zone with two fighter jets on his tail._ _

__"He was blowing up his own weapons," Coulson said, looking at the first report. He couldn't help but smile. "Weapons that Ten Rings, shouldn't have had."_ _

__"He's not the one selling," Fury agreed. "But if it's not Stark, who is it?"_ _

__"Stane?" Coulson suggested._ _

__Fury seemed to consider, "Find out for sure."_ _

__Coulson nodded and left the room. The rest of the day flew by and Coulson kept a close watch on Stane. He also had an agent on Stark's mansion and on Potts. The next day, he played patsy as Potts hurried out of Stane's office. She was scared and spilled the whole story to him. He informed Fury and was able to put a strike team together to go after Stane. It unfortunately meant pulling the agent off of the mansion—which he would later regret—the LA branch of SHIELD was woefully understaffed._ _

__That night, he lost a couple of good agents and saw the rise of what could be the first true hero since Captain America. He refused to let his excitement show a few days later when he gave Stark the instructions for his next press conference. Barton could have done a better job—at least he would have stuck to the cards. Fury laughed when he told him just that, before handing Coulson a folder. "Your next assignment."_ _

__Coulson looked down at the folder marked _Project: Frostbite_ and back up at Fury, "Director?"_ _

__"You'll love it," Fury answered. "Now I need to go talk to a billionaire about another initiative of mine."_ _

__"Does this have anything to do with where you disappeared to?" Coulson asked._ _

__Fury turned and looked at him with a smile, "I can't tell you everything, Cheese, but just you wait until you see what I have being built."_ _

__Coulson arched an eyebrow and refrained from asking, because Nick clearly wasn't going to tell him. Coulson reviewed Project: Frostbite on the plane back to New York. His inner fanboy wanted to squeal with delight, but he was an agent and this was about more than just finding Captain America. This was about returning a National Hero home, and maybe finding the information to make another Super Soldier. It was going to require a lot of research, but Coulson was willing to do it and luckily, most of what he needed to do was in New York and Barton would always come back to New York sooner or later._ _

__In fact, Coulson had barely gotten settled back at his desk, when the door opened and a tanned Barton entered and draped himself on the couch. "For the record, I hate working with Hill."_ _

__"Oh?" Coulson asked, arching an eyebrow._ _

__"I got to be a Marine and a part of their search and rescue for Stark," Clint said. "With Hill, who is absolutely no fun, and not even in the way that Natasha is no fun."_ _

__Coulson smiled, and shook his head._ _

__"So what did Fury have you doing?" Clint asked._ _

__"Going through Stark Industries’ financials," Coulson replied._ _

__"Ugh," Clint made a face. "I'm sorry."_ _

__"It's alright," Coulson said. "Have you checked the news?"_ _

__"No, I just got back, finished debriefing and decided to come see you," Clint said._ _

__"Natasha’s not in town?" Coulson asked, teasingly._ _

__"Well, no, but I wanted to see you," Clint said. "Thought we could catch a game?"_ _

__"Can't, Fury already handed me my next Op," Coulson admitted._ _

__"Anything you can use a sniper on?"_ _

__"Unfortunately not, in fact it looks like I'm going to the arctic."_ _

__"Shit, seriously?"_ _

__"Fury wants me to find Captain America," Coulson said._ _

__"Why is he sending you on a wild goose chase?"_ _

__"Because he thinks I can succeed?" Coulson suggested. "And someone found this." He pulled the picture and offered it to Clint, who reached over and snagged it._ _

__His eyes narrowed and looked at it, "That looks old."_ _

__"The symbol is from Hydra, and the device is believed to be part of the plane that Captain America was flying when it went down."_ _

__"So, you're going looking for Captain America," Clint said, softly._ _

__"Yeah," Coulson agreed._ _

__"So what about me?" Clint asked. "Sitwell has been assigned to Project: Emerald Road and he won't tell me what it is. But I have a feeling it has something to do with a certain green monster."_ _

__"I wouldn't know, I wasn't informed of Sitwell's assignment," Coulson said._ _

__"Damn," Clint muttered._ _

__"I have no idea about you," Coulson said as the door opened again._ _

__"Agent Barton," Hill said, "Fury has a job for you."_ _

__"Seriously, I just got back?" Clint whined._ _

__"You're in charge of designing security for Project: Volcano Island," Hill said, tossing the folder at him. "Fury hasn't even told Coulson about it."_ _

__"Really?" Clint said, smiling widely as he opened it. "Holy Shit!"_ _

__Coulson looked mildly alarmed at that, "Agent Barton?"_ _

__Clint closed the folder, "You're gonna freak, boss." He popped up off the couch._ _

__"Are you going to work on it now?" Coulson asked._ _

__"Damn straight," Clint said. "It's going to be awesome."_ _

__Coulson waited until he was gone, before looking at Hill, "That worries me."_ _

__"He's good at figuring out weaknesses," Hill said, with a shrug._ _

__"You recommended him?" Coulson asked._ _

__"Yeah, I did," Hill answered. "He did good work out there. Fury is staying in LA for a while. He feels the office there has gotten lax."_ _

__"It has," Coulson agreed._ _

__"You have any recommendations about who to send out there with him, let me know?" Hill requested._ _

__"I'll get right on that," Coulson agreed, already thinking of a few that had complained about how cramped New York was. "Is Agent Romanoff on assignment then?"_ _

__"Yeah, and she's to report to LA when she gets back," Hill said._ _

__"Sounds like my team is spread out," Coulson murmured._ _

__"Well, they are the best," Hill remarked with a slight smile._ _

__"Admitting to that now?" Coulson asked._ _

__"Yes, you gave Barton and Romanoff a real chance," Hill agreed. "I didn't do that with Barton and I wouldn't have with Romanoff. Your risks have paid off. You're my unofficial equal and you deserve to be."_ _

__"You misjudged Apling," Coulson said with a shrug. "Everyone makes mistakes."_ _

__"I know, I heard about what happened," Hill said. "It's tough to lose people you're responsible for."_ _

__"It is," Coulson agreed, taking a deep breath._ _

__"If you need to talk..."_ _

__"I'll let you know," Coulson finished._ _

__Maria nodded, before turning to head out._ _

__"Thank you," Coulson said, before she got too far. "For the offer."_ _

__"You're welcome," She said, before walking away._ _

__Coulson got to back to work. Over the next few months, he made a couple of phone calls to M and got her description of how Captain America had stopped the Red Skull. She was as sharp as ever, and Coulson had no doubt that the day had been burned into her memory. He also took a careful look at Howard Stark's old notes on where and how he had continued searching. Barton would drop by on occasion and pull him away for an hour or two, and it was nice distraction. Barton, combined with various meeting with Pepper about her employer, made him feel a bit more well rounded, especially since Sitwell was now in South America tracking Mr. Green._ _

__Coulson was a few days away from heading up to the Arctic when Fury called. Coulson hurriedly picked up his phone. "We have a problem, Cheese."_ _

__"What has Stark done now, boss?" Coulson asked._ _

__"That agent you sent over, she got close enough to Stark to get a blood sample," Fury said. "He's been acting more outrageous lately."_ _

__"I'm aware," Coulson agreed, because Pepper had been complaining about it. Mostly about the Stark Expo that was starting soon._ _

__"There's something wrong with his blood, we need to integrate someone into his camp to keep an eye on him," Fury said._ _

__"Morse? She's got the science background," Coulson suggested._ _

__"She does, but she broke her leg while surfing last week," Fury said in a tone full of disapproval. That meant that she had done it on her spare time and not while on a case._ _

__"Agent Wu?" Coulson suggested. "She's currently on assignment in Hawaii, but she can return to California."_ _

__"Isn't Woo a man?" Fury asked._ _

__"You're thinking of Woo, with two 'O's," Coulson said, "Wu with a 'U' is a woman, she was the agent responsible for keeping an eye on that CIA and NSA joint operation in Burbank. She'd most likely be able to understand Stark's technobabble and she's great in close combat—Romanoff has complimented her on her skills."_ _

__"Why not Romanoff herself?" Fury asked._ _

__"Because you have her on some secret project that you haven't shared any details about with me," Coulson pointed out._ _

__"You haven't figured it out?"_ _

__"I have my suspicions," Coulson said, ones he wouldn't be broadcasting over the phone. He was fairly sure that Fury had Natasha getting as much dirt as she could on any and all members of the World Security Council._ _

__Fury was silent, "Stark is too valuable to let him self-destruct. We better send her in."_ _

__Coulson nodded, "Shall I put Wu on alert? She can return to Burbank to return a box of items from her ex?"_ _

__"Yeah, make sure Romanoff has her information to get her over there if she needs it," Fury encouraged._ _

__"You going somewhere boss?" Coulson asked._ _

__"I'll be following you up north in about a week or two," Fury stated._ _

__"Ah," Coulson said. "Well, I suggest packing your long underwear."_ _

__"I'll take that into consideration," Fury answered with a laugh, before hanging up._ _

__The night before Phil left he had dinner with Clint. It was just the two of them in Clint's apartment, which was a nice lived in mess. Phil couldn't remember the last time his apartment actually looked like someone lived there._ _

__"Thanks for this," Phil said with a soft smile as he watched Clint cook._ _

__"Not a problem," Clint said, "You know I like having you around."_ _

__"In your ear, I believe, is the term you use most often," Phil agreed._ _

__"Yeah, well, that hasn't happened in forever," Clint remarked, glancing over his shoulder at him, "You get tired of me or something?"_ _

__"You don't need a handler," Phil replied, "You're a capable agent."_ _

__"You miss working together?" Clint asks._ _

__"I miss being on the same continent as you," Phil replied. "But yeah, you are mildly entertaining."_ _

__Clint grinned at that. "You know I actually put in for vacation time."_ _

__"Really?"_ _

__"I haven't had a day off, since I came back," Clint said. "One week all to myself."_ _

__"Sounds nice," Phil remarked._ _

__"You should take one," Clint said. "When's the last time you had one?"_ _

__"I don't know, I'd probably be terribly bored," Phil admitted._ _

__"Well, take one with me?"_ _

__"What happened to being all by yourself? If I'm with you, then you wouldn't be alone," Phil said._ _

__"Maybe that's the point," Clint muttered and Phil knew he wasn't supposed to hear that._ _

__"Clint?" Phil asked, waiting until the other man looked at him. "Is... Are you want--"_ _

__"DON'T," Clint snapped, cutting him off. "Don't ask that question, not the night before you leave for the arctic for a month, okay?"_ _

__Phil stared at him, before nodding his acceptance, because it was apparent now that Clint wanted more than friendship. Phil vowed to get their schedules aligned to give them some time to work it out and figure out what was going on between them. Clint didn't want that discussion to be interrupted by work and Phil found himself agreeing, one night with Clint and he wouldn't want to leave the other man for over a month._ _

__Clint stared at him, before turning back to the food, a soft, "Thank you," his only acknowledgement of the conversation that was not taking place._ _

__"I decided a long time ago to respect your decisions Clint," Phil said. "Especially since Apling used you for so long."_ _

__Clint turned, "You're the best, you know that right?"_ _

__"Thank you," Phil said, softly. They ate dinner quietly. Their touches may have lingered a bit more and there may have been a few more pauses to look at the other, but that was alright with Phil. They were on the same page, headed for something amazing. He just had to wait for it._ _

__The expedition to the arctic turned up several other relics, and Coulson could tell they were getting close. Unfortunately the World Security Council had other ideas, and Fury and Coulson were pulled back to the States, just in time for the opening of Stark Expo and Stark's Senate hearing. Fury sent Coulson to keep an eye on Stark there, while he went over what he had missed. He managed to talk to Pepper briefly at the hearing and returned from his office to find a message informing him that Natasha was working for Stark Industries legal department._ _

__Coulson made contact with his subordinates, and got a detailed report on everything he had missed. He called Clint but didn't get an answer, which probably meant that Clint was on an Op or working on Project: Volcano Island. Coulson snorted softly at that thought. He didn't really think Fury was building a secret base in a Volcano on an island. If Fury was going for any super villain hideout, it would have to be something mobile. He paused, before shaking his head. Fury would tell him sooner or later._ _

__Romanoff called him the next day about the attack on Stark during the Monaco Grand Prix. She was less than enthusiastic about Stark in general. Coulson listened to her, told her she was doing good work, and asked that if she got a blood sample to get it to Medical ASAP. She reported that it was already done. Afterwards, he got on a plane with Fury and headed back to LA, because Stark was on his way back. Things were going to be moving fast with Stark. During the flight, he found a report from one of his teams watching for weather anomalies. It was fascinating and they projected that this wasn't a normal weather event, but instead one caused by something else._ _

__They landed in LA and went to their rooms to get some sleep. LA HQ looked a lot better than it had six months ago, and Coulson was grateful for the quarters he was given. He sent an email to the New Mexico team to call as soon as they were up. They did so and he got a full update which he took notes on for future reference. He told them to keep him informed, before he went to talk to Fury._ _

__Fury was already up, it was late Californian time or maybe it was early. Coulson wasn't sure, but he was one of several people trying to get Fury's attention. He listened to the info from the others: Stern wanted a meeting about Iron Man, someone wanted a budget, and apparently Sitwell and Banner were back on US soil, which boded ill for wherever Banner was headed. Coulson wasn't too surprised when Fury decided New Mexico was a lower priority._ _

__"Damn it Coulson, it'll have to wait!" Fury snapped at him. Coulson pulled back, arching an eyebrow at his friend. "Get me a line to the World Security Council. They're going to have to hear me out now."_ _

__"Of course, Sir," Coulson said, turning on his heel to walk._ _

__"Coulson," Fury said. "Stark is dying, that is going to have to wait."_ _

__"Yes, Sir," Coulson said, nodding in understanding. Coulson was undeterred and called the New Mexico team to get them to fax over some readings. If Fury needed proof, then Coulson would give him some proof that something big was happening in New Mexico._ _

__Coulson’s gut told him that he needed to keep an eye on New Mexico, so even though Fury assigned him to watch over Stark, Coulson kept monitoring the other situation. Everything was pointing towards the formation of an Einstein Rosen bridge in the sky above a small town in New Mexico. Coulson failed to keep Stark in the mansion, but at least this time when Fury showed up he was able to convince the man to send him to New Mexico._ _

__He hurried to get his team on the move and said good-bye to both Stark and Natasha, before heading out. The trip was mostly uneventful, though when he stopped to fill up gas—and entered the gas station because he wanted doughnuts—he did prevent a stick-up. Once they reached the site for their new Op, they chased the locals out of the area. Coulson went into town with a team while the base was being set up, to gather the research from one Jane Foster. Neither she nor her companions were happy about it. They were going through it when the door opened and Barton walked through_ _

__"Coulson," Barton greeted._ _

__"Barton. Glad you could make," Coulson said._ _

__"So Fury told me that you caught an alien?" Barton asked._ _

__"That's very inaccurate. We have encountered an extraterrestrial object," Coulson explained._ _

__Barton considered for a long moment, "Then where's the alien that it belongs to?"_ _

__"That's a good question," Coulson agreed. "Find a spot up high, right now, you're on call for guard duty."_ _

__"Understood, boss," Barton agreed with a nod, before walking out._ _

__Sitwell tilted back in his seat, "You two alright?"_ _

__"We're fine," Coulson said, watching Barton leave._ _

__"That didn't seem fine," Sitwell pointed out._ _

__Coulson gave him a look, "There are things we've decided not to talk about until we have some time."_ _

__"You think we'll get that anytime soon?" Sitwell asked._ _

__"I can hope," Coulson said. He smiled to himself before stating, "He's worth waiting for Jasper."_ _

__"You old romantic," Sitwell teased, before going back to his reports._ _

__They hadn't found much by the time night fell and Clint dragged him away to eat something. Sitwell was on duty for the evening and Coulson attempted to grab a few Zs. That was of course, when the break-in occurred. Coulson had become adept at waking quickly and thankfully he hadn't undressed before going to bed, so he wasted no time getting into position. Agents were already rushing about, doing their best to subdue the infiltrator. He knew Barton would be gearing up too and grabbed a radio to signal that he should get in position._ _

__He headed into the command center where Sitwell was waiting for him. "What have we got?"_ _

__"There's a massive electromagnetic surge coming off that thing, systems are barely coping," Sitwell explained._ _

__Coulson considered, without even thinking he raised the walkie talkie to his mouth and asked, "Barton, what have you got?"_ _

__"You want me to slow him down, Sir? Or are you just going to send more guys in for him to beat up?" Barton replied._ _

__"I'll let you know," Coulson said, as he read between the lines. Barton didn't think he could take the man down—if he did he would have said so, because Coulson knew that if Barton could take someone down, then he could slow him down. Barton also trusted him to make the right call in the situation._ _

__Coulson headed toward the platform that overlooked the object. He had to wonder if this intruder was their alien, because who else would cut through their defenses like that?_ _

__"Better call it, Coulson," Barton's voice broke over the line. "I'm starting to root for this guy."_ _

__Coulson stepped onto the platform and looked down as the man entered the mud pit surrounding the object._ _

__"Last chance, Sir," Barton said in a hushed whisper._ _

__"Wait, I want to see this," Coulson said looking down as the man grasped the handle and struggled to pull it up. He tried, but ultimately failed, screaming his loss towards the sky, before he sank to his knees in defeat. Coulson found himself disappointed as he ordered, "Alright, show's over, ground units move in."_ _

__The ground troops slipped in and put the intruder in handcuffs, leading him towards the interrogation room. Coulson followed after to interrogate him. The man was silent as Coulson questioned him about his training; he barely responded at all. When his phone beeped, Coulson left the room and found Barton waiting for him with an observation and a decent plan, one that had the potential to work. He went back in for another go at the intruder, but was only in there a few minutes before Sitwell stepped in, saying that he had a visitor._ _

__Erik Selvig made an impassioned speech that was full of bullshit, but Coulson let him carry on, before allowing him to take the intruder out. He wasn't surprised when Barton suddenly appeared at his shoulder as he watched Selvig and 'Blake' walk away, "Follow them," he said._ _

__"Yes, Sir," Barton said, slipping off. Coulson turned to catch a glimpse of his denim-clad ass. They really needed to get some time to talk, but it looked like it wasn't going to be tonight._ _

__Barton wasn't back by morning, but Coulson found his phone full of text messages from the other man. Blake and Selvig had been to the bar before going back to Dr. Foster's— apparently Blake could hold his liquor better. Barton had found a spot to bed down nearby and keep watch, probably while asleep with his eyes open. Coulson went to find someone to go relieve Barton, when there was what almost felt like an earthquake. He checked in with the command center and then went with a team to check it out. Coulson wasn't expecting to find a sand version of crop circles. It looked almost runic, so he requested someone from linguistics to come check it out. When the wind began blowing and a dust storm started picking up, he looked skyward, frowning because that didn't look good._ _

__And it wasn't. It turned out be something that looked like Stark tech in that it was a suit of armor, taller than any man that Coulson knew and with spikes along the shoulders, but it definitely wasn't Stark tech. That was obvious when the face opened up to reveal there was nothing inside, right before it unleashed a wave of heat and destruction. Coulson called for a tactical retreat and watched as it headed towards town. He attempted to radio in and warn the agents, but he knew that there wasn't anything in the armory that could slow that thing down. He was stuck in the desert and unable to help…at least until Barton showed up and got a load of them back to the impact site. There he grabbed another car and continued on with three other agents, leaving Barton in charge of getting the other agents back from the site._ _

__He arrived just in time to see 'Blake' off and watched the man fly without the aid of suit or jetpack. The world was changing and he wasn't sure what he could do about it. The details were fuzzy when he reported in to Fury, who was less than impressed, but he did have a new recruit to their Science Division in Jane Foster, so long as she could continue to work on her research. The one thing they were able to do was take the armor into SHIELD’s custody with the hope that maybe their scientists would be able to do something with it._ _

__He oversaw the clean up in New Mexico, and then happily handed over the keys to Barton, who told him, "Get some sleep boss." Coulson liked to think he said it fondly, and climbed into the car and let him drive them the rest of the way._ _

__From there they packed up and headed back to New York. Phil was able to sneak away with Clint that evening, but before they could do anything besides put their feet up, they'd crashed on Clint's couch. They woke up wrapped around one another and all Phil could think about was how he wanted to do this more often. He reached up to stroke Clint's face, causing the other man to stir._ _

__"Morning," Clint whispered, voice rough with disuse._ _

__"Morning," Phil said._ _

__"We going to be in New York for a while together?" Clint asked._ _

__"I have no idea," Phil admitted. "I'd like to be, so we can finally have that talk."_ _

__Clint blinked and smiled, "Fury did cut my vacation way short—we could disappear for a week, just the two of us?"_ _

__"That sounds nice," Phil agreed._ _

__"We'll go someplace no one would think to look for us," Clint said._ _

__"And where would that be?" Phil asked._ _

__"Your apartment," Clint teased._ _

__Phil laughed, "You mean my apartment where I am still technically roommates with our boss?"_ _

__Clint pulled back to look, "What? You're rooming with Fury, seriously?"_ _

__"We moved in together when we joined up. He mostly stays at SHIELD, but... He still pays his half of the rent."_ _

__"So you get a two bedroom place to yourself and only have to pay half the rent?" Clint asked._ _

__"Yep," Phil replied._ _

__"Damn," Clint said, "Why don't we hang out at your place more often?"_ _

__"No food," Phil said, "Plus you're a better cook."_ _

__Clint's hand came up cup Phil's cheek, Phil leaned into it. Clint sighed, "Phil... You know..."_ _

__Clint trailed off as the door opened and Natasha walked in. She took in the sight of them with a raised eyebrow, "We’ve got a job."_ _

__"We do?" Clint asked._ _

__"Fury wants us to stay on Banner," Natasha said, heading for her room. "Grab a bag, we're leaving ASAP."_ _

__"Now?" Clint asked._ _

__"Yes, now," Natasha said. "We need to move."_ _

__Clint sighed, looking down at Phil, "Sorry, guess we should have disappeared sooner."_ _

__"Guess so," Phil agreed, "Our jobs..."_ _

__"Are being far too demanding," Clint grumbled, but moved to get off of him and get dressed._ _

__"Yeah," Phil agreed. They were on the right track though. Phil waited until his agents were packed up and walked out with them. Natasha had a nondescript car waiting for them. Clint tossed his bags in and hesitated._ _

__"Good luck," Phil said, extending his hand._ _

__"Thanks," Clint said, taking it and pulling him into a hug. "Stay safe."_ _

__"I'll try," Phil said, returning the hug. Clint pulled back and kissed him quickly, a promise of things to come._ _

__Clint smiled at him, "I'll see you later."_ _

__"Yeah," Phil agreed, a little stunned. Natasha smiled at him as she climbed in the car. Clint climbed into the passenger seat beside her, and gave him a wave. Phil waved as they drove off, before heading into SHIELD._ _

__Things did slow down after that, but not nearly as much as Phil would have liked them to. Fury unveiled Project Volcano Island: a flying aircraft carrier; Coulson was suitably impressed. Transferring to the helicarrier took the better part of a month and there were still items coming over for a few months after that. New York HQ was a ghost town, but it was going to be remodeled primarily as a training facility, but also as a larger medical facility. As this all took place, Phil also stayed busy planned for a future that involved super soldiers, monsters, Norse gods and high tech suits of armor._ _

__Clint arrived back just in time to see Phil briefly, before Phil was sent out on an op. By the time Phil was back, Clint was gone, and it set the pattern for the next few months. He caught sight of Clint in passing and occasionally they managed to steal an hour two together, before one or the other had to leave again._ _

__It lasted until Coulson came back from a mission with a bullet in him. The doctor was patching him up when the curtain pulled back to reveal Barton._ _

__"Agent Barton!" The doctor objected, "You can't be here!"_ _

__"I heard you were hurt," Barton said while looking at him, clearly agitated and worried. Coulson scanned him and he could see bruises and scrapes—he was clearly back from another mission, but had stopped long enough to change into jeans and a tight t-shirt._ _

__"A bullet to the thigh," Coulson answered honestly. "I'll be doing paperwork for a couple of weeks, but I'm fine."_ _

__Barton didn't say anything, going quiet for a moment while still refusing to budge despite the doctor’s glare. Coulson finished getting treated and as they were wrapping up, Barton suddenly announced, "I have a concussion."_ _

__"What?!" Both Coulson and the doctor said, looking at him._ _

__"I have a concussion, I need to go on medical leave," Barton insisted._ _

__Coulson stared at him as the doctor grabbed a penlight while grumbling, "You never want to go on medical leave though." Barton flinched away._ _

__"I know when I'm concussed and I know how to treat it," Barton said. "Just need a signature on the paperwork."_ _

__"You're not showing signs," the doctor pointed out as he continued trying to check Barton, who in turn deftly dodged the doctor. Even Coulson had to agree that Barton wasn't acting concussed._ _

__"Well, I am," Barton insisted, "Just give me the medical leave; Coulson and I can keep an eye on one another."_ _

__"What makes you think that I..." Coulson started, and stopped when Clint shot him a look that somehow managed to be both pleading and demanding at the same time. Suddenly he realized what Clint's game was. "Sign Agent Barton's paperwork."_ _

__"What?" the doctor said, looking at him "You want me to falsify a medical document?"_ _

__"It will be this just one time and Agent Barton will behave the next time he's in here," Coulson answered._ _

__"What?" Barton objected and Coulson shot him a look. Clint glared, "Fine."_ _

__"No disappearing?" the doctor asked, looking at Barton, who nodded. "Next five visits."_ _

__"Two," Barton said._ _

__"Three," Coulson said, overruling him._ _

__"Three," the doctor agreed, "but just this once and I want your signature, Agent Coulson."_ _

__"Fine," Coulson agreed, reaching for the form and signing it quickly._ _

__"Go, before I change my mind," the doctor said._ _

__"Thanks," Clint said, extending an arm to help Coulson up. Coulson took it, dressed quickly, and they retreated from medical._ _

__"Whose apartment?" Phil asked, realizing that Clint was heading towards the garage._ _

__"I was thinking we'd snag a hotel room," Clint said. "We have what five days?"_ _

__"At most, probably more like two," Phil said, considering it. "Hotel might get us a couple more hours."_ _

__Clint nodded and they made it downstairs to the garage. Clint checked out a car and hustled Phil into the passenger seat. While Clint was going around, Phil pulled out his phone, pulling up an app to make hotel reservations under a false name. Then he quietly gave Clint instructions on where to go. Clint's hand shifted to rest on Phil's thigh—luckily it was his uninjured one._ _

__It wasn't long before they reached the hotel. They climbed out, checked in and soon were in their hotel suite. Clint looked around, "Posh."_ _

__"I thought I should spoil you a little," Phil said, dropping down onto the couch to watch Clint as he paced._ _

__Clint smiled at that. "I don't know if I deserve spoiling. I mean, I've been wanting to do this for... over a year?"_ _

__"Over a year?" Phil asked._ _

__"I was going to tell you when Stark went missing," Clint admitted._ _

__"You did tell me, I just wasn't paying attention," Phil corrected._ _

__Clint ducked his head, "Yeah, but Stark..."_ _

__"Stark isn't as important than you," Phil interrupted, shooting Clint a little look. "Well, at least to me."_ _

__"Yeah?" Clint asked, looking at him._ _

__"Of course, Clint, you are..." Phil paused, struggling to find the words, "One of the best men I know."_ _

__"Am I?"_ _

__"Yes," Phil said._ _

__"I was kind of a jerk to you though."_ _

__"I kind of deserved it," Phil said. "And if I wanted to do something about it, I could have reported you."_ _

__"You didn't," Clint said._ _

__"No," Phil agreed. "There were a couple of reasons why I didn’t."_ _

__"A couple?" Clint asked._ _

__"Well, once I looked into Agent Barton, I found out he was a stellar agent and I wanted him to stay on. But more importantly, I also wanted Clint to forgive me."_ _

__"I forgave you a while ago," Clint said._ _

__"I know," Phil said. "And we've been friends since then."_ _

__"We have, but..." Clint trailed off. "Before Natasha, we kissed and besides that one time, you never seemed to be interested in me that way again."_ _

__"I was, I have been," Phil insisted. "I didn't want to push, I wanted to respect your decisions, because at the time there weren't many of your decisions being respected. I thought when you were ready for more—if you ever were—you'd let me know."_ _

__Clint stared at him, "How can you have this job and be so... nice?"_ _

__Phil smiled, "I don't think working for SHIELD means that I can't show kindness to other people."_ _

__Clint moved to take a seat next to Phil, "I like that about you, you know, your kindness."_ _

__"I don't know why, but I'm rather fond of that smart-mouth of yours," Phil said, reaching out to him._ _

__Clint smiled, "Even though I talk your ear off on the comms."_ _

__"In the midst of that you provide vital intel," Phil pointed out. "You're very intelligent and you were wasted as just a sniper."_ _

__Clint ducked his head, blushing, "Thanks."_ _

__"You're also really hot," Phil said._ _

__Clint looked up at him and arched an eyebrow. "You think I'm hot?"_ _

__"Those arms, your back, your ass," Phil said, leaning back. "I noticed that about you a long time ago."_ _

__"Really?" Clint asked._ _

__"Yes," Phil agreed with a nod, shifting to look at him again._ _

__"I think you're gorgeous," Clint admitted and Phil felt his cheeks heat up. "And I don't want to ruin our friendship, but..."_ _

__"You think we can be more?" Phil asked, when Clint trailed off._ _

__"Yeah," Clint nodded. "I trust you more than anyone I know, and I wanted you back then. That desire never completely went away."_ _

__"It didn't for me, either," Phil said. "But then my personal life is rather lacking."_ _

__"So's mine," Clint pointed out, "So this is a mutual thing?"_ _

__"Yes," Phil assured._ _

__"You think we can make this work with our jobs?" Clint asked._ _

__"I think we will spend more time apart than together, I think we will worry about one another, which I would have done done regardless..._ _

__"Me too," Clint cut in._ _

__"...Alright," Phil agreed, unable to suppress a smile. "But I think if we talk, we commit to one another, we communicate with one another, we'll make it work. And if it doesn't, our friendship is strong enough to survive it."_ _

__Clint nodded, "So, us together?"_ _

__"Yeah," Phil agreed and Clint ducked close to lean in and kiss him. Phil slid a hand behind Clint's neck and encouraged him to stay close._ _

__Clint smiled as he pulled away, "So here's my idea."_ _

__Phil could feel the gentle puffs of breath on his lips and looked into Clint's eyes. "Mmm, go on."_ _

__"There's a bed in the other room. I think we should move in there and not leave for a while."_ _

__"You want to sleep?" Phil asked, smiling as he teased the other man._ _

__"No, but if that's what you want to do..." Clint said. "I'll take that as long as I can cuddle up to you."_ _

__"I don't want to cuddle," Phil said, "I want to make love to you."_ _

__Clint's eyes widened and he moaned softly, "Yes."_ _

__"But I definitely approve of the bed plan."_ _

__"Good," Clint said, leaning in to kiss him again. This time when he pulled away, he got up and offered Phil a hand. Phil happily leaned against Clint and they kissed and touched on their way to the bedroom. Clint was careful of his injury and laughed at Phil's suggestions to make sure he didn't make his concussion worse._ _

__They managed three days before Natasha appeared, seated on the bed while they exited from the shower. Those three days had been spent having sex, eating, and talking. They talked about a lot of things: how they were going to make their relationship work, their pasts, their families, and so much more. Phil bumped into Clint, who had come to a stop when he spotted Natasha. He peered around Clint's shoulder, unsurprised at seeing her there._ _

__"I suppose, congratulations are in order," Natasha said. "At least I hope so."_ _

__"They are," Clint said._ _

__"Good, now I won't have to deal with you complaining about schedules," Natasha replied. Clint glanced at Phil and Phil met his eyes, causing Natasha to curse. "Of course, you'll continue on with that, you'll want to be with him all the time, especially when your schedules are in sync."_ _

__"Nonsense," Clint said, "You're still my best friend."_ _

__"We'll still want to do dinner, if the three of us can ever arrange to do that again," Phil added._ _

__Natasha looked between them, "You mean it?"_ _

__Clint moved over to her and wrapped his arms around her. Natasha looked like a disgruntled cat trying to pretend not to like it, but secretly enjoying it. "Still my best friend." She must have been truly nervous and Phil promised himself that he and Clint would make sure not to accidently ignore Natasha._ _

__"I suppose I should give you both the shovel talk," Natasha said, as she wrapped an arm around Clint._ _

__"Both of us?" Clint asked._ _

__"You're both my friends, therefore should one of you hurt the other, I will hurt that one," Natasha stated._ _

__Phil chuckled softly, "Understood."_ _

__"Yeah, yeah," Clint agreed, pulling back to smile at her. "I assume you're here because Fury noticed that we disappeared?"_ _

__"He has, and there's a job for us," Natasha agreed._ _

__Clint sighed and looked at Phil, "Guess the honeymoon is over."_ _

__"Guess so," Phil agreed. "We made it longer than I thought we would."_ _

__"Well, yours was the more conservative estimate," Clint agreed._ _

__"It was," Phil agreed. "Guess I can put my old suit back on."_ _

__"I brought you some clothes," Natasha said, gesturing at the door. "I figured Clint wouldn’t think to let you grab a change of clothes."_ _

__"I like him naked," Clint said, leering at Phil._ _

__Phil huffed in amusement, and headed into the main room to find a suit hanging over the chair and a bag next to it. He grabbed both of them and carried them back into the bedroom. He tossed the bag at Clint and went to change in the bathroom. He wasn't too surprised when Clint slipped in behind him as he was tying his tie._ _

__"You do look good in suits," Clint said, nuzzling at his neck._ _

__Phil smiled at the touch, "Be smart out there."_ _

__"Of course," Clint agreed. "Try and stay out of trouble."_ _

__"I'll do my best," Phil agreed, turning to kiss Clint in on the lips, before stepping away. "If I'm not there when you get back, forms will be waiting on my desk—purple folder—for your signature when you get back." The forms were a simple change of relationship status to inform the higher ups that they were in a committed relationship._ _

__"You want me to file 'em too?" Clint asked, smiling at that._ _

__"No," Phil said, shaking his head. "Give it to Sitwell."_ _

__"You going to tell him?" Clint asked._ _

__"If I see him and it comes up," Phil said, which seemed to make Clint happy. Phil had no plans to lie about their relationship, but he also wasn't one to brag either. Phil exited the bathroom and found Natasha on the sofa. He smiled at her._ _

__"I'm glad you two were finally able to talk," Natasha said, "Even if he did have to fake a concussion."_ _

__Phil smiled, "We have been trying for a while, things just always seemed to come up."_ _

__"If it took you a year to find time to talk, do you really think it’s a good idea to have a relationship?" Natasha asked, arching an eyebrow._ _

__"Honestly, no," Phil said. "However, Clint and I have discussed this; we're going into it with our eyes wide open, and we both want this. Plus we're stubborn fools, so..."_ _

__Natasha smiled slightly, "You two are only fools when it comes to each other."_ _

__"She only says that, because she doesn't believe in love," Clint said, entering the room. "I, however, do." He leaned in and kissed Phil's cheek._ _

__Natasha stood, "Shall we head back then?"_ _

__"If we must," Phil said, gathering his other clothes, before they headed back._ _

__The next few months were full of stolen kisses and quick meets up—not always with sex, though they did have sex a lot. There were times when they just wanted the other's company, times they watched a game while making out during commercial breaks, and times when they just talked until one of them had to leave. It was the start of something and it was good—really, really good in Phil's mind. He even forgot about the search for Captain America until Fury informed him that the Captain had been found._ _

__The two of them went back to the Arctic to recover the body and discovered signs of life. They argued on the return trip back about to how to handle things if the Captain showed signs of waking up. Fury was all for making him think it was still 1942 and Coulson thought they shouldn't try that deception with him. Fury, being the director, won of course. Coulson supervised the dethawing, texting Clint on occasion about what was going on. When Captain Rogers started to show signs of waking up, Coulson requested a transfer to the PEGASUS facility, because he was not going to be able to keep himself from telling Fury, 'I told you so' when it all blew up in his face—which it did._ _

__Phil was able to spend some time with Clint at PEGASUS, which was part of the reason he requested to be transfer there. They found a routine together that was semi-normal: they went to work, finishing for the day at almost the same time and then they spent a few hours together before going to bed. It was nice and Coulson enjoyed it._ _

__Coulson thought nothing of it when Barton radioed in and said he'd be late to dinner. He started worrying when Barton updated him of the situation, informed him that he had requested for Fury to come in, and was calling for an evac of the base. Coulson got to work managing the evac and was on the helipad when Fury landed._ _

__Things went from bad to worse that night; Loki made an appearance and Barton was compromised. Coulson had to go and recruit Stark after he called Natasha in and told her to bring Banner with her._ _

__He finally got the opportunity to meet Steve Rogers on the ride to the helicarrier and was far too distracted by Barton's situation to mind his tongue. He ended up fanboying over him, while hiding his own nerves about Loki’s attack. There were things he meant to say, but forgot due to the current situation. Clint was going to laugh his ass off when Phil admitted to this, if he ever got the chance to._ _

__Sitwell met him on the bridge, and let him know that they were already searching for Barton. Coulson made a few phone calls to make sure Doctor Foster and Ms. Lewis were out of the way, so that Loki could not find them as easily as he’d found Doctor Selvig. Captain Rogers appeared back on the bridge and Coulson tried to maintain his calm, but apparently when he got nervous he rambled like like a starstruck fanboy._ _

__"We got a hit," Sitwell said, interrupting the conversation, which meant Coulson was going to owe him and Jenny dinner. "67% match. Weight, crossmatch, 79%"_ _

__"Location?" Coulson asked._ _

__"Stuttgart, Germany." Sitwell answered, "He’s not exactly hiding."_ _

__Coulson bristled slightly, because it had to be a trap of some sort. But he didn't object when Fury looked at Steve and said, "Captain, you're up."_ _

__A few hours later the 'carrier was filled with heroes. Steve had returned along with Thor who had joined them, and Stark, who was hitting it off with Banner. The only one missing was Barton, and he knew that Barton was on Fury's short list of potential agents for the Avengers Initiative. Loki was captured, but Barton was still out there somewhere. And apparently still under the Trickster's control, otherwise he would have called in._ _

__"We'll find him," Natasha said, appearing at his side._ _

__"But will it be too late?" Coulson asked._ _

__"You'll be watching your Bears as he cheers for the Backers just to irritate you," Natasha said._ _

__"Packers," Coulson corrected._ _

__Natasha arched an eyebrow, "Whatever."_ _

__Coulson smiled at that. "He does do that just to irritate me."_ _

__"He does," Natasha agreed, softly. "I'm going to talk to Loki. Watch my back?"_ _

__"Of course," Coulson said, heading to a monitoring station as Natasha headed toward the brig. Natasha was very good at what she did and Loki was clearly not expecting her to be quite that good. He underestimated her which made Coulson wonder about his intel, made him wonder if he had ordered Barton to tell him everything. Because Barton would have warned him not to underestimate Natasha._ _

__Natasha got the information she needed and that resulted in the others arguing about the Phase 2 weapons. Coulson rolled his eyes and glanced at Hill, "They need a time out."_ _

__"Would Rogers be put in time out for half an hour or an hour and a half?" Hill asked._ _

__Coulson considered, but before he could answer the ship was rocked._ _

__"Hill?" Fury's voice came over the comm._ _

__"Engine 3 is down," Hill said, going over to the monitor station._ _

__Coulson waited for Fury's order for him, "Coulson! Initiate defensive lockdown in the detention section, then get to the armory! Move Out!"_ _

__Coulson nodded and moved out. He could do this, he could handle the situation. He locked down the detention section and went to the armory, before heading to the cage where Loki was imprisoned. He could handle this, he was an agent of SHIELD. He was the grandson of General Phillips who went up against the Red Skull. He had seen underdogs win before: the 1980 Olympic games when the US hockey team beat the Soviets and ended up winning Olympic gold, in early 1984 when Sandberg led the Cubs in a comeback win to beat the Cardinals, in 2007 when Appalachian State beat Michigan in their own house. He was the underdog; he was the 1980 US hockey team, he was his beloved '84 Cubs, he was App State and he was going to beat Loki._ _

__He stepped into the room holding the cage in time to see Loki trick Thor into into the cage. He didn't bother listening to Loki's spiel and quietly took out his guards._ _

__"Move away please," Coulson said, pointing the untested weapon against Loki. Loki stepped back from the controls. "You like this? We started working on the prototype after you sent The Destroyer. Even I don't know what it does. Do you wanna find out?"_ _

__Coulson inhaled sharply as he felt something slice through him. He glanced down and found the spear jutting out of his chest. He glanced over at the other Loki and watched as it flickered out as the spear was pulled back out of him. He slumped to the floor and the real Loki walked over to the controls. Who the fuck pulled two trick plays in a row? Loki was a titan; he was the Yankees, the Patriots, USC, Ohio State - the teams that were so damn good they didn't even need any trick plays. But Loki had pulled two like he was…he was Boise State, trying to prove that it was good enough to be a National Champ like all those other schools. He glanced at Thor and fuck, Loki was Boise State and Coulson had underestimated him. Thor was the Buckeyes, the Trojans—the NFL teams that created dynasties, and Loki was the one who set about to beat them in any way that he could, with as many trick plays as he could pull off._ _

__"You're gonna lose," Coulson whispered, because those teams always lost eventually. They didn't have staying power like the other teams._ _

__"Am I?" Loki asked._ _

__"It’s in your nature," Coulson said, because everyone lost. Even dynasties fell and there was a group of people who were going to rally around this, because he could remember being at a game, watching an injured player being taken off the field and the fans chanting that player's name. It was just a matter of time..._ _

__"Where is my disadvantage?" Loki said, and Coulson realized that he had tuned out some of Loki's spiel._ _

__"You lack conviction," Coulson answered, because Loki was a bandwagon fan. There was no team for Loki, he probably just chose the opposite of his brother—like Clint when it came to professional sports. But at least Clint held a passion for Northern Iowa and Iowa State, he still hated the damn Hawkeyes though._ _

__"I don't think I..." Loki was saying and Coulson was finding his voice grating, so he squeezed the trigger. The blast sent Loki through the wall._ _

__He smiled, "So that's what it does." He let his world fade to black, trying to find something left to give, but he couldn't find anything. Clint was gone, still in Loki's control, and he had no idea if they were ever going to get Clint back. He was tired and done; he was down by ten runs in the bottom of the seventh, mercy rule was going into effect, game over. The fans had left the stadium long ago, he could hear them getting closer…no, that wasn't right, the fans should be getting further away. Coulson forced his eyes to open, watching as Fury stepped into view, wide-eyed._ _

__"Sorry boss, the guy rabbitted," Coulson breathed. He struggled to tell him about the trick plays._ _

__"Just stay awake," Fury said, but Coulson found it increasingly hard to do so. "Eyes on me."_ _

__"No, I'm clocked out," Coulson objected. He could see his game clock slowly ticking down to 0:00…or maybe it was ticking up to 40:00 like in soccer. Soccer clocks were weird, counting up instead of down._ _

__"Not an option," Fury ordered._ _

__"It's okay, boss. It was never going to work... if they didn't have something... to..." Coulson breathed out, losing the words and starting to give up. He closed his eyes, vaguely aware of Fury calling to him, but he just didn't have the strength to go on...._ _

__He died. At least he thought he did, but apparently the medical team were big fans of comeback wins. Maybe they watched in 85 when McMahon led a comeback victory against the Vikings, scoring three touchdowns in less than seven minutes. They probably loved it in 2004 when the Red Sox came back after losing three games to win the World Series, unless they were Yankees fans. 2004 would have been a good year for them because that was the year of the Michigan/Michigan State game when the Wolverines came back and scored 19 points—with less than nine minutes on the clock—to tie the game and go into triple overtime. That game was more fitting to Coulson's situation, he realized as he stared up at the ceiling—a comeback to tie and suddenly Coulson found himself in overtime. Coulson wondered if there was even something to win now, before falling asleep again._ _

__He dreamt of sports, of Clint, of SHIELD. He dreamt of M talking with his grandfather, but not his grandfather as he remembered him, but how his grandfather had looked during the war—though instead of his military uniform he was wearing a black suit. He couldn't make out the words, they were garbled like he was underwater. He dreamt of a football game where the QB who looked like Clint had been caught giving the other team their plays. The other team's QB looked a lot like Loki. Loki's team was filled with aliens that would remove their facemasks and scream before a play. He dreamt of Thor blocking a path for Natasha to score touchdown passes from Clint. He dreamt of Clint and Tony coming up with new, completely illegal trick plays that included Captain Rogers. He dreamt of Hulk sacking Loki for a safety and Maria announcing the game as Fury and Sitwell cheered along the sidelines. He dreamt of a win._ _

__He woke and found himself looking at the same ceiling again, except this time he struggled against the medication and the desire to go back to his dreams of the football game. He reached, searching for something to call someone. He must have set a monitor off, because soon there was a doctor there who he didn't recognize, followed by M. The doctor asked him questions which he answered, while objecting to any additional medicines. Once the doctor was gone, Coulson looked at M._ _

__"Where?" he asked._ _

__"London," M answered. "Fury sent you here; the east coast is dealing with everyone else."_ _

__"Everyone else?"_ _

__"New York was attacked by aliens," M explained._ _

__"Did we win?" Coulson asked._ _

__"SHIELD's strike team stopped them," M answered. "I suppose I should ask about the man wearing a suit that is remarkably similar to Steve's."_ _

__"We found Steve Rogers in the ice in... April of 2012," Coulson answered._ _

__"And when was I going to be informed?" M asked angrily, before she took a deep breath and held up her hand. "Don't answer that."_ _

__"As soon as I could tell you in person," Coulson answered anyway._ _

__M looked at him, "You're a good man, Phil Coulson."_ _

__"Thank you, the strike team?" Coulson asked._ _

__"Captain Rogers, Iron Man, The Hulk, one of my agents thought he recognized the Black Widow from the footage, a man with a hammer, and of all things, an archer."_ _

__Coulson smiled, "Clint."_ _

__"Clint?"_ _

__"My boyfriend," Phil admitted, before blinking, "I'm still on something, aren't I?"_ _

__"You are," M agreed. "Fury said they rallied around your death."_ _

__"They think I'm dead?"_ _

__"According to Fury, yes, and I've been informed of your funeral," M said._ _

__"No," Coulson said, moving to get up, "I can't..."_ _

__"Lay down!" M snapped and Coulson fell back on the bed._ _

__"Clint, please, I don't wanna screw this up," Coulson whined. "I can't let him think I'm dead again."_ _

__"You did die," M stated, "It's only because Fury had been collecting favors and secrets from every secret organization that he could get his hands on that you're alive."_ _

__"I don't care, tell Clint please," Phil pleaded, because he was going to lose Clint if he let Clint think he was dead for too long. They had finally managed to move their relationship past the standstill that they were stuck in for so many years._ _

__M regarded him, "I agreed not to tell anyone you were here."_ _

__"So? You left yourself some wiggle room regarding that agreement—I know you," Phil said._ _

__"I'll consider it," M said, "Now get some rest." She headed for the door._ _

__Phil realized something as she walked away, "M, how long was I out."_ _

__"A little over two weeks," M stated._ _

__"That seems fast..." Phil said, looking down at his chest._ _

__"It was an experimental procedure," M stated. "I'm not sure how Fury convinced them to use it on you, but he did. I asked very few questions."_ _

__Phil started to ask more questions, but she left the room without another word._ _

__The next few days were filled with sleeping, doctors visits, and the rare appearances from M. One of the nurses brought in a collection of DVDs and another brought in books, but they wouldn't let him watch TV. It was beyond annoying. He wanted to know what was going on. He felt like he'd been kicked out of the game and told to go wait in a locker room with no TV, no knowledge of what was going on. He hated it and complained often, until they added PT to his schedule; after that he lacked the energy to complain. Between the mysterious technology they had used to heal him, and the process of healing in general, he was left feeling much more tired than he normally would be._ _

__Another week passed, and then he heard a commotion in the hall. It wasn't long before the door opened a crack and a familiar person slipped through, closing the door and locking it. He hadn't noticed Phil—that was evident. But he was listening, trying to determine if someone had noticed that he had slipped in._ _

__"Clint," Phil breathed, unable to contain his smile, because here was proof that Clint was alive and healthy. Phil could just make out his eyes, which confirmed he was himself again._ _

__The other man jerked at his name, looking over at him. "Phil." He froze for a moment and then moved quickly to the bed. Phil had just enough time to inhale, before Clint's lips were on his. Phil's hand came to rest on Clint's neck, holding him close as Clint started to murmur between kisses, "Thought you were dead... so scared... weren't supposed to leave me... I'm sorry..."_ _

__Phil hushed him softly, slowly pulling back, "I'm the one who should be sorry."_ _

__"For what?" Clint asked._ _

__"For letting you think I was dead, I begged M to tell you..."_ _

__"She did, well, she kind of told Natasha, we figured we'd investigate..."_ _

__"Good," Phil said, "Where is...?"_ _

__"MI6 agent spotted us, she’s distracting him."_ _

__"You're not mad?" Phil asked._ _

__"No," Clint said. "Too fucking relieved."_ _

__"Good," Phil said with a sigh of relief._ _

__"I saw the footage," Clint added, "You should be dead."_ _

__"Fury called in a few favors according to M," Phil explained, taking Clint's hand and resting it on his chest, "So... apparently I'm recuperating from an experimental procedure that saved my life."_ _

__"It doesn't hurt?" Clint asked._ _

__"Not as much as it should," Phil admitted. He wasn't surprised when Clint moved to strip him of the shirt, so that he could inspect his chest._ _

__Clint's touch was gentle as he carefully touched him. "This isn't right, there's no way it should be this healed up," Clint said, running his fingers alongside the scar._ _

__"I know," Phil agreed. "I think most of my recovery is due to the drugs they pumped through my system."_ _

__Clint hummed softly as he took it all in._ _

__"Clint, will you tell me what's going on out there? M has been very vague," Phil requested, cupping Clint's cheek._ _

__Clint looked back up at him and smiled, "Yeah. Later through, we should get you out of here."_ _

__"Out of here would be nice," Phil agreed, moving to undo what monitors he could as Clint pulled out his phone. "Who...?"_ _

__"Natasha, letting her know she can finish playing with the MI6 agent," Clint explained with a slight grin._ _

__Phil nodded his agreement, getting up to grab the jacket to pull on as Clint went to inspect the hallway, still holding the phone to his ear. "Tasha isn't picking up."_ _

__"Should we rescue her?" Phil asked._ _

__Clint bit his lip, "Nah, we'll get you to the extraction point and if she's not there by sunrise, we'll call in backup."_ _

__"Backup?"_ _

__"I was thinking Stark."_ _

__"That would make a great impression," Phil agreed. "Anyone in the hall?"_ _

__"No, this is too easy," Clint grumbled._ _

__"I'm not a prisoner and I'm supposed to walk everyday. I just won't be coming back from this one," Phil answered._ _

__Clint glanced over his shoulder and smiled at him, before turning to kiss him quickly. "Let's go."_ _

__They made it out of the building and to a hotel a few blocks away without running into any problems. Natasha showed up a few hours later, looking like the cat that got the canary. She greeted Phil with a gentle hug after expressing her shock at seeing him on his feet._ _

__"Should I be concerned about your relationship with MI6?" Phil asked, once they had explained things to her._ _

__Natasha considered, "M hates me, and as for her favorite agent, well, we have a friendly rivalry."_ _

__"You had sex with him," Clint said._ _

__"I did, it was the easiest way to distract him," Natasha admitted, heading toward the bathroom. "And really he was the only threat we had. Now, I'm going to go shower; we have a plane to catch in an hour."_ _

__Phil leaned into Clint, "She seems happy."_ _

__"She got one over on MI6," Clint said, nuzzling his head. "She is very happy."_ _

__Phil made a soft noise of agreement as he snuggled into Clint's side._ _

__"Just so you know, I put out an Assemble order for the other three," Clint said. "Told 'em to meet us at Stark's tower. We’ve got some celebrating to do and someone needs to bring the shawarma."_ _

__"Shawarma?" Phil asked, starting to drift off._ _

__He felt Clint's smile against his head, "Yeah, I figured you'd want everyone's version of the events."_ _

__"Sounds like something to do over chinese," Phil muttered._ _

__"Not with this group," Clint answered, "Not with this group."_ _

__Phil made a questioning noise, but didn't bother staying awake long enough to find out what he meant by that. Clint would tell him later and from the sounds of it, the whole team would tell him what happened. That would be perfect. After that he'd have to worry about telling his family he was alive, yelling at Nick for letting Clint think he was dead, and figuring out what else needed to be on his to do list. For now, he'd rest, and Clint would watch over him as he gathered his strength. Clearly they'd won, probably at the last minute. At least they had time to regroup, plan, and heal, because there was always another game, another battle. Even when a season ended, there was always next year._ _

__**EPILOGUE - 16 months later** _ _

__Phil pressed deeper into the corner of the couch, so he could take in both the television and Clint, who was at the edge of his seat. Phil would normally describe Clint as a calm football watcher, but everyone gets caught up once in awhile. Phil can't really blame him; the refs are pretty horrible and though the Cyclones had jumped out to an early lead, the Hawkeyes had come back. Phil glanced at the clock; at this rate he was certainly going to miss Northwestern's kick off._ _

__"WHAT THE HELL?!" Clint yelled, exploding off the couch in a fit of pure frustration. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING, YOU IDIOTS?!"_ _

__There's a not so discreet cough behind them and Phil glanced towards the doorway where Bruce and Steve were. Steve looked stunned and maybe a little hurt. He reminded Phil of a dog that he had growing up, that just didn't understand it when his father yelled at the television, thinking she'd done something wrong. Phil carefully kept his face neutral._ _

__"He's upset about the game," Phil said, calmly._ _

__"The game?" Steve asked, perking up._ _

__"The refs are fuckin' idiots," Clint growled._ _

__"You can join us," Phil invited. "He'll settle when it’s not the Cy-Hawk game."_ _

__"Then you'll get all upset when Northwestern comes on," Clint said, teasing._ _

__"They're playing Western Michigan, please," Phil said, refusing to rise to the bait._ _

__"I don't know, Phil. Broncos have been playing pretty good this year," Clint pointed out._ _

__"The season has barely started," Phil replied._ _

__Both Steve and Bruce slipped in the room, taking one of the other couches. Steve looked at the TV, "Who's playing?"_ _

__"Iowa and Iowa State," Clint said._ _

__Steve nodded, "So, like Yankees and Dodgers back in the day?"_ _

__"Yes," Phil agreed, because today at least it was true. He reached up and slid his fingers through Clint's belt loop and tugged. "Sit down." He may have skimmed Clint's ass when he let go, but that got Clint's attention and when he sat down, he curled a bit closer to Phil._ _

__"Good game, then?" Steve asked, glancing at the score._ _

__"It was better," Clint grumbled._ _

__"He's cheering for Iowa State, who’s been falling apart," Phil explained at Steve's confused look. "You're normally not this worked up though," he said, looking at Clint._ _

__"Sitwell bet me the Hawkeyes would win," Clint admitted._ _

__"Ah," Phil said, realizing Sitwell had made this a bit more personal._ _

__"What is our archer winning?" Thor asked, carrying a large bowl of popcorn. He frowned when he took in the room’s inhabitants._ _

__"Right now, I am," Clint replied. "If the refs have anything to say about it...."_ _

__"I'm confused," Steve interrupted from the other couch._ _

__"About?" Phil asked, as Thor announced, "I wish to watch the Continuing Adventures of the Housewives of Wisteria Lane."_ _

__"Who is Clint cheering for?" Steve asked, as Clint turned to look at Thor, "Well, Phil and I are watching football."_ _

__"Iowa State Cyclones; he has had issues with peoples’ assumptions about Iowa Hawkeyes," Phil explained._ _

__"But I wish to find out what happened in this five year jump," Thor stated._ _

__Steve gave Phil a confused look, "Why?"_ _

__"Well, you're going to have to go somewhere else, because Phil and I were here first and we're going to watch the Northwestern game after this," Clint said to Thor._ _

__"It's complicated," Phil replied._ _

__"But this TV is the largest," Thor said._ _

__"Exactly," Clint argued. "We're here first, we get to watch football."_ _

__"But..." Thor said, getting ready to argue._ _

__"Thor," Steve interrupted. "We agreed that this TV was to be shared. Clint and Phil beat you here and I'd kind of rather watch football than that show."_ _

__"Don't look at me, Thor, I'm not getting involved," Bruce said. "I'd rather watch a documentary."_ _

__"Damn it!" Clint screeched and Phil glanced at the television to watch as a hawkeye player ran it in for a touchdown, putting Iowa on top._ _

__"You've still got a minute left..." Phil pointed out, softly._ _

__Thor stomped from the room and they could hear Tony, before they actually saw him. "Hey Big Guy, what's... OK, don't talk to me... Oh, there you all are; so that just leaves Natasha unaccounted for, who is probably the last person you want to have unaccounted for."_ _

__"She went shopping with Pepper," Clint said. "She doesn't get football."_ _

__"Oh," Tony said, looking at the TV. "Oh hey, you must be happy with the Hawkeyes winning and all. Did you take the name because you liked the team?"_ _

__"Oh," Steve said softly as they all heard Clint growl._ _

__Phil locked an arm around Clint's waist, so he didn't go after Stark who was still babbling on about Hawkeyes and Hawkeye. He sighed softly and wondered how this was his life: dealing with childish superheroes who saved the world on a biweekly basis, but couldn't resist the opportunity to needle one another._ _

__Phil grinned a few minutes later and elbowed Clint who had started yelling back at Stark, "Overtime, Cyclones got this."_ _

__Clint turned to look at the TV and then at Phil. "Yeah, they do..."_ _

__Two overtimes later, Clint kissed Phil and slipped him some tongue in full view of Bruce and Steve, before scrambling for the remote. "Let's see if your Wildcats can make it anywhere near as exciting."_ _


End file.
